#before arya break her the truth about what really happened

[andthemoonsingswisely]

Arya, Lyanna, Nature Motifs, Harrenhal, and Femininity

When we’re introduced to Lyanna in the first chapter, it’s through the POVs of Robert and Ned. What I found interesting was that both Robert and Ned remember her love for the outdoors.

"She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with the sun and clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean." - Robert, AGOT Eddard I

The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it. "I bring her flowers when I can," he said. "Lyanna was … fond of flowers." - Ned, AGOT Eddard I

From the start, it’s established that Lyanna loved nature and the outdoors. Both Robert and Ned know this to be true, yet Ned tells Robert in a later chapter that he never really knew Lyanna; while it’s true that knowing something such as someone’s preference for the outdoors doesn’t translate to knowing them, and we can just leave it at that, I want to take a look at the deeper implications of nature, especially in regards to its relationship with femininity.

"You never knew Lyanna as I did, Robert," Ned told him. "You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath.” AGOT Eddard VII

the truth is, Robert loves this idealized version of Lyanna—he loves Lyanna because she’s dead, because she can be the beautiful dead girl sitting passively as nature happens to her, as she gets washed by rain as opposed to actively wading into the water. To Robert, Lyanna’s love of the outdoors is a symbol of her femininity only because he associates it with the passiveness of a dead girl. However, we know that in life, Lyanna was seldom passive, and made choices which would affect herself and those she loved.

She becomes the Knight of the Laughing Tree to get justice for Howland Reed during the Tourney of Harrenhal. She wears a crown of winter roses given to her (in a controversial move) by the man she loves. Lyanna’s association with nature is her choosing justice and love. It’s no coincidence that she’s subverting the trope of “male knight defending a maiden’s honor” and pushing past the barriers of traditional femininity through the guise of nature.

now, where does Arya come into this? Well, now that Lyanna’s dead, Arya’s similar personality and paralleling themes of justice and love act to reveal more about who Lyanna was as a person while placing heightened importance to these characteristics of Arya, basically telling the reader: hey, watch out, this is going to be important.

In AGOT, Arya picking flowers displays her connection towards nature that, like Lyanna’s, is more active than passive. But it isn’t until ACOK when the real “tree arc” happens. A slave in Harrenhal, Arya witnesses and is the victim of severe abuse and injustice, with trauma and grief adding to her feelings of powerlessness. And then this happens:

“"But there is no pack," she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall. "I'm not even me now, I'm Nan."

"You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you."

"The wolf blood." Arya remembered now. "I'll be as strong as Robb. I said I would." She took a deep breath, then lifted the broomstick in both hands and brought it down across her knee. It broke with a loud crack, and she threw the pieces aside. I am a direwolf, and done with wooden teeth.”

The weirwood is a symbol of strength for Arya, and a way she can break the barriers of not just traditional femininity, but also her slave status. Moreover, the godswood is also tied to her encounters with Jaqen. Like Lyanna, Arya also uses her connection to nature to get justice. Arya being the ghost in harrenhal is an important thematic parallel to Lyanna, highlighting their courage and shared internal values.

(I have a pet headcanon that Lyanna was the one speaking to Arya with the help of the old gods, which COULD be canon if TWOW came out before I died—just write the damn books grrm!)

But we’re not done yet, because justice is only one half—as I mentioned earlier, nature is associated with BOTH justice and love for Lyanna, and for Arya as well, as I’m about to show you.

In ASOS, while Arya and Gendry are in Acorn Hall, Tom of Sevens sings “My Featherbed” which contain these lyrics:

“And how she smiled and how she laughed, the maiden of the tree. She spun away and said to him, no featherbed for me. I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves, and bind my hair with grass, But you can be my forest love, and me your forest lass"

Gendry is strongly hinted to be a potential romantic interest for Arya, and I’m not even going to mention all their shared experiences with nature because that would just be me quoting the entirety of Arya’s chapters in ACOK and ASOS. I found it quite neat that like Lyanna, Arya’s “love” also breaks barriers, since Gendry is a lowborn bastard and since Arya herself doesn’t fit into the mold of a proper lady.

I feel like this could def be more fleshed out, but I’m typing this on a time crunch so tldr; Arya’s relationship with nature parallels Lyanna’s, as they are both rooted in justice and love, and as they both subvert the traditionally feminine idea of a woman who has nature happen to her instead of being a part of and acting with nature.

[asprettyasyourown]

How do you expect the Hardhome plot to play out in the books? Especially with Arya’s and Faceless men’s investment in the same?

Hi anon. I assume you’re referring to what happened to the wildlings in Hardhome?

(For those who don’t remember, after Mance Ryder’s forces have been defeated south of the Wall by Stannis, some wildlings were led by a wood witch named Mother Mole to Hardhome. She predicted that they would “find salvation where they once found damnation” and had a vision of ships coming to sail them south. However, they didn’t fare so well there, the situation growing so dire they had to eat their own dead while they’re presumably surrounded by wights. Jon sent help to get them out (it’s not well received), but slavers came first. The wildlings, following the prophecy, believed them to be rescuers and sent their women and children to them. Of course the slavers had no intention to do any rescuing and thus roped them up to sell them in Lys. But while they were sailing a huge storm broke: they were separated, one ship ending up in Lys and the other in Braavos.)

Honestly, I think it might very well be the catalyst for Arya to leave the Faceless Men. Of course, there could be other factors as well (learning about Jon’s “death”, maybe meeting Jeyne and have her tell about the shit-show that is the North now), but it might be the breaking point for Arya.

Look, we know our girl doesn’t fare well with the FM. We know she struggles to leave her Northern roots behind when she killed Daeron, a Night’s Watch deserter - something the Starks are entrusted with. With her refusal to give up Needle because it reminds her of home, of family, Jon especially. And ultimately her warging of Nymeria, her other half, who now serves as a link to her identity and her land.

We know she is fiercely protective of the smallfolk and has a strong sense of justice, from Mycah to Weasel and Gendry and Hot Pie, or when she defended Sam against the braavosi who were looking to rob him. We know she loves them and being around them, like when she used to sit at her father’s side and listen to the travelers coming to Winterfell, how she likes learning about Braavos’ culture and people (though one can argue it is part of her training, I do think she genuinely loves doing it).

We know she struggles to adapt to the neutral stance of the Many-Faced God, since she had to convinces herself to kill her first target (the old insurance guy who was conning people) by thinking he was a bad man who deserved it, or when she exclaimed that the masters should have been the ones to die instead of the slaves when the Kindly Man told her about the story of Braavos.

So when she learns that a ship full of of wildlings women and children (Northern roots) are being held to be sold as slaves (sense of justice, love of people), she will want to help them (can’t hold a neutral stance). It’s in her core. I don’t see a situation that could draw Arya more than this one.

My guess is that she will beg the FM to intervene, or at least let her intervene. I see her trying to play into Braavos and the FM’s creation (by slaves who rebelled against their oppressors) to appeal to the Kindly Man. But he will refuse her because he’s a little bitch because the FM are neutral and rescuing them would mean taking lives that were not meant to be taken blah blah blah. This will be when Arya finally realizes that the Faceless Men are full of shit, and leaves for good.

(Btw, this would make a nice parallel to her begging Jaqen to help her escape with Gendry and Hot Pie, but in this case Arya doesn’t have any leverage against the Kindly Man - she can’t really blackmail him, it would backfire spectacularly - so she just says “fuck it” and leaves to do it herself, since apparently she has to do everything around here.)

Now how she would free the wildlings is a bit trickier. Arya is still a very young girl after all. Contrary to Dany, she doesn’t have an army or dragons - yet - so she can’t just barge in the ship, kill the slavers and take off. I mean, it would technically be possible, but the afterward logistics would be a problem (how would she feed such a big number of people? How would she get them back across the Narrow Sea? etc). So I have two theories.

One is that Arya’s wildlings join Dany’s Dothraki/Unsullied/etc and they all come back to Westeros together. But while Arya will definitively meet Dany and team up with her (there’s too many foreshadowings to be any way else), the logistics of their meeting is a bit hazardous to me, at least for now. Meereen is a long way from Braavos after all. Maybe if both crowds are travelling towards Westeros and somewhere on the journey they run into each other…? It’s a possibility, but I think the timeline would conflict. Dany still has to deal with the shit-show that is Meereen right now, and it’s not something that will be resolved in one chapter. I guess the Meereen storyline could be tied by the time Arya cut ties with the Faceless Men, but even if it did, Dany and her people still have a long way to get to Braavos/Arya. How is Arya going to feed her people by the time they get to her? So while this theory could technically happen, I doubt it will.

My second theory involves the Iron Bank. I saw a great theory (can’t remember where, if anyone has a link please give it to me!) that the killing of Raff the Sweetling in the TWOW Mercy chapter was actually orchestrated by the Iron Bank. They paid the Faceless Men to make it appear like Raff was the one who killed Mercy (believable, since Raff is a known rapist and no one would think that such a young silly girl could take down a grown soldier). When Braavos will learn that an official from Westeros killed a sweet young actress after possibly raping her, it will cause an uproar and finally give the Iron Bank an excuse to cut ties with the Iron Throne and engage in martial repercussions to pay for the huge debt the crown owns them (and probably to have a better stranglehold on Westeros). So that would mean Arya didn’t actually went rogue (except when she said “Think so?”, but the FM has very little chance to hear about that), and it creates a link between Arya and the Iron Bank through the Faceless Men.

Now I think the Kindly Man very much expects Arya to leave the House of Black and White one day. He knows she can’t bring herself to erase her identity, and thus will never be a true Faceless Woman. But he also knows how valuable Arya Stark is, as the (apparent) sole successor of the North’s throne. And since he works with (for?) the Iron Bank, I wouldn’t be surprised if he told them who she is. To the Iron Bank, this would represent an incredible opportunity: get hold of the Six Kingdoms through the crown’s debt AND the North through Arya.

So once Arya leaves the FM, I can see them stepping in to offer their help with the rescuing of the wildlings, kind of like Illyrio helped Dany for the promise of Viserys paying him back once he gets on the Iron Throne, or like the Manderlys are trying to do with Rickon. They could offer food and shelter and means to go back to Westeros, thus creating a debt Arya would have to pay once she regains her place as the North’s heir. It would also explain why the Kindly Man would let her leave the HOBAW unharmed while she knows so many of their secrets, because she would still be working for him technically - as a pawn.

(Of course, this plan would fall short since Arya is not actually the only Stark alive, and she isn’t next in succession. I mean, she does have a lot of foreshadowing of ending Queen, but that’s another topic. I also doubt Arya would let herself be manipulated like this, or that the other Northern lords (and siblings) would be fine with that.)

In terms of narrative, I think it makes sense. For someone with such a large amount of leadership qualities, foreshadowings and experiences, she has been surprisingly removed from anything political (well, not as much removed than a bystander). I mean, Robb was King in the North, Jon Commander of the Night’s Watch, Bran is the Prince of Winterfell, Sansa has Littlefinger trying to make her queen from the Vale and Rickon has the Manderlys working to put him on the North’s throne. Every Stark kid has had people working to place them in positions of power and back in Winterfell (some with good intentions, some not), except for Arya. Yet she actually proved she would be a great leader. I think the Iron Bank could very much play this role in Arya’s storyline.

Anyway, here’s my (very long) answer. I hope this is what you expected!

[reginarubie]

I remember when fans accused Sansa for breaking the oath in s8 by disclosing Jon's parentage. But what about Jon? He told them he is not Ned's son which means that he can't control North, it's Bran. He demands North army to follow him without telling truth. He didn't even wait to know if the armies was ready to fight another war. If he wanted to keep his identity secret, then he should ask Starks help and their opinions on how to handle this. He should share everything with them.

Ciao anon!,

So, I'm going to rant on this, because this makes me really frustrated!

I had not yet joined Tumblr when the last season of the show aired, so I wasn't actually aware of most of this while it happened (suffice to say that when I posted my first Jonsa fic, featuring unrequited Jon/Daenerys I got completely thrown under the bus of the whole ship-war over Jonsa and Jonerys of which I was completely unaware of, at the time — that was how much out of the loop I was) but after I joined Tumblr I saw many times this argument, which is void and untrue.

Let's start by the premise that the show was so rushed that we didn't even get the whole scene of Jon telling to Sansa and Arya the truth about his heritage; which bad choice, but I digress.

Let's analyse the scene: It starts (after the war council scene) with the Starklings fighting over Daenerys; then Jon tells his sisters he's not a Stark (to which both Arya and Sansa are like «Jon, enough, you're Ned Stark's child and our brother, shut the hell up about it already») and he is very touched, but also very in despair over it, at which point Bran (knowing Jon's plight over Daenerys having told him to not tell it to anyone, not even Arya and Sansa) tells Jon it's his choice to tell 'em or not and Jon tells his sisters/cousins, before the Heart Tree (in a very private and religious setting for him), that he must tell them something and that before that he wants them to swear not to share it with anyone. At which point Arya is like “what it is?” but Jon is adamant and tells them he won't tell 'em unless they swear first and Arya is like “okay, whateva, I swear” instead Sansa (who is the political mastermind ) asks «how can I swear to keep a secret if I don't what that is?»and Jon is like «because we are family» appealing to her sense of familial love and duty to make her swear and in end she relents as well. So the scene goes like this:

[WARNING: there will be sarcastic paraphrase ahead; it is not meant to upset and insult anyone — also between *...* you will find the sarcastic thoughts]

Sansa and Arya: we don't like and don't trust Daenerys

meanwhile Bran is just lurking behind them unbothered

Jon: I made a promise, we needed her she helped us, now it's our turn. Period.

Arya: yeah whatever, we're family and family comes first, we're telling you we don't trust her to be a good queen, listen to us. We're the last of the Starks because we trusted too much, listen to me.

Jon: I'm not a Stark

Sansa and Arya: oh fuck off, stop brooding about this already. You're a Stark/you're my brother etcetera.

Jon *broodingly, despairingly sighs*

Bran *this little shit*: the choice is yours.

Jon (to Arya and Sansa): I need to tell you something, but you have to swear you won't tell another soul (this thing I have to tell you).

Arya and Sansa look at each other: say what?

Jon: You swear, or I ain't telling ye.

Sansa: How can I keep a secret if I don't know what that is?

Jon: because we're family.

And this is great, because Jon knows exactly what he is doing by appeasing to both Arya and Sansa's sense of duty and familial love toward him. That's very sly and book canon of him, and I love it, though while lacking the inner dialogue we don't see how his mind is working and show Jon is duller than book Jon who is a treat anyway.

Jon *looks at Arya very hard*

Arya: fine whatever, if it's so important to you, I swear. Now tell me.

— which perfectly in character with beginning of the book Arya and Jon as they are told to be this unyielding duo who trust each other implicitly and can almost read each other's mind.

Jon *looks pointedly and pleadingly at Sansa*: kicked puppy looks intesifies.

Sansa *not the kicked puppy look*: I swear it.

Jon *le sigh 2.0*, looks at Bran: tell them

Bran, suddenly cornered, *this little shit, I thought you were going to tell them*: off screen proceeds to tell Sansa and Arya

You can find the scene in questions (minus my sarcastic commentary) here.

This is great because Jon, the same Jon who is politically savvy (at least in the book), enough to manoeuvre people to do his bidding and sass 'em (I mean boy managed to convince an iron bank mediator to give them a loan while half-drunk and 17, but I digress) makes his sisters (one of whom is at least as politically savvy than him) swear to keep a secret he wants to tell them and then basically goes and tells someone else to tell them.

If we have to speak precisely Sansa and Arya swore to keep the secret Jon told them, but Jon told them no secret, as it was Bran who told them and they did not swear to keep the secret Bran would tell them.

And I love this, because the biggest show flaw (the lack of inner dialogue) will be mended in the books, and if Jon actually does it purposefully (like book Jon would do— and that's the hill I'll be dying on) it will be just perfect. Because it means Jon is giving them the political space to out-manoeuvre everyone with this secret, to keep everyone of 'em safe (which is what Sansa does).

So, point a) Sansa technically isn't an oathbreaker. Because she swore to keep the secret Jon would tell her, but he told her nothing and made Bran tell her instead. And it is highly probable that was Jon's goal all along, btw.

Pertaining Jon not telling the truth to the northern lords, I think that may change in the books, as we can see in the show that the truth about his parentage is eating him from the inside (poor baby), and I think in the books it may be influenced by when and how Jon actually finds out about his real parentage — like...what is the purpose of having Howland Reed know it and have some lords (who knows Robb's will) being in Greywater's Watch with him if he isn't the one breaking the news to Jon?, the show gave that duty to Bran and Sam but it is completely possible it will happen differently in the books and that Jon might use his parentage reveal politically to free the North from the South or try something akin to that.

What more, when showJon told Sansa, in s6 “we need to trust each other” we all thought “fine, no more secrets between all the Starks, they're going to work like a team” instead Jon went and either stupidly fell in love with a tyrant, conqueror with a penchant for burning people alive (something Jon hates with passion — feel my incredulity at that possibility) or he went all undercover-ninja on her ass (which is the most probable outcome in the books) and told no one.

Now, if Jon was aware of his parentage before meeting Daenerys I feel like he would keep that notion very close to his heart and cleverly would wait and gauge her disposition before choosing to tell her or not. Seen who she actually is — my bad what she actually is (Jon's words, not mine) — he would be probably forced to go all political on her, to manipulate her (and we know book Jon is perfectly able to do it and has the guts to actually do it to the very end) and would keep the parentage a little known deal to use it later to free the North from his pledge to her (the only way to convince her to come North and fight the Great War).

I mean, in the show Jon told Sansa via raven that he had bent the knee to Daenerys, but signed himself not as Jon Snow, King in the North (as he should have, as it would've been his last kingly decree which would have lawfully proved his effectual pledge to Daenerys) but as Jon Snow, Warden of the North; which, actually leaves them political room to outmanoeuvre Daenerys because it wasn't a king who bent the knee legally, but a Warden of the North. Anyway I digress.

I think the only reason bookJon would keep such a secret from his family, might be because he means to keep 'em safe, but if I am right and in the books Jon does something similar to the whole “swear not to tell a soul what I am about to tell you — Bran, you tell 'em” it means that he is making good on his promise of trusting each other and protecting each other. The same way Ned did not tell Cat, to keep her safe in case it got out because she could not have known if he hadn't told her, and to keep Jon safe because he can't trust Cat won't use his secret to save her children, because she loves her children something fierce and he cannot risk Jon's life; Jon might not tell Arya and Sansa so that they cannot be hurt because of it, since they were unaware of it.

Also, may I point out something; for some reason I can't seem to find it but I had once made a post about how people had double standards, they perceived Daenerys as an ambitious woman fighting for her birthright (which she doesn't have but I digress) when she tells Jon to never tell anyone the truth about him so that they don't know the reality of his claim to the Iron throne and she can keep it instead without even asking him if he wanted it in any way; while Sansa was power-hungry and cunning because she apparently framed Jon by telling his secret to get the North (no matter that she fought to have him back North as king and was sorry it didn't happen) or because she looked upset when Jon was named king over her .

The point I was making was this:

Daenerys and Sansa found themselves in the same situation.

Daenerys (who had believed to be, after Viserys' death to be the Targaryen heir to the Iron throne) finds out she has a male relation who has a better claim than hers (purely because he is a male and the son of the previous heir, Rhaegar) the same way Sansa (who believed to be, after Robb's death and Bran and Rickon's death, the heir to Winterfell and its rightful lady — like Jon points out as well both in the books and in the show) after having acted the facto lady regent of the North finds out her true born brother (younger than her — but male which is the only reason why he would come before her in the line to Winterfell and the throne) Bran is alive and back home; guess which one of the ladies acts power-hungry and which one acts selflessly?

I think we can all agree both Daenerys and Sansa have suffered while being powerless — both have gained power (Daenerys as khaleesi and queen; Sansa as lady of Winterfell and princess in the North) and feel safe because now they can wield it do their self-perceived duties (be the rightful queen of 7K for Daenerys and being the lady of Winterfell for Sansa). And both Jon to Daenerys and Bran to Sansa have the lawful right to usurp them in what they fought to gain because Jon is the real Targaryen heir (if he is true born in the books as he was in the show — tho in the books that part could be given to Aegon, but I digress) and Bran is the rightful lord of Winterfell over Sansa as he is male and thus comes before her in line.

People claimed Daenerys was simply acting woke and fighting for the right to pursue her ambition and that's because she is an ambitious woman who bled for the Iron throne (who killed for the Iron throne) while Sansa was power-hungry because apparently she looked upset when Jon was named king over her and spoke against him during the councils and that she has used his secret to frame him and take the northern crown from him.

My point was, put in the same identical situation Daenerys demanded Jon didn't tell anyone — not even his family — about the truth of his parentage so that no one may know his claim is better than hers to the Iron throne without once asking if he wants it (thus completely ignoring as lesser than her own, his possible ambition) or offering to marry him and make him her consort (she wants him to be her subject and partner, but not as partner, she wants him to replace Daario and become her lover and her commander and supporter, but without him questioning her) and share power; while Sansa, first thing she does, is offering her lordship over Winterfell to Bran as he is Ned Stark true born son and thus the rightful lord of Winterfell, willingly offering to let go of that degree of power and safety she had gained. Yet somehow Daenerys is a woke ambitious queen and Sansa is a clever, power-hungry snake.

May I also point out that people later accused Sansa about being power-hungry because she didn't get Jon to remain king in the North and used it to become Queen in the North instead — basically begrudging her for having succeeded where their fav (Daenerys) had failed by doing the very same thing Daenerys had tried to do, but having success in obtaining it. But if Daenerys did it, it was okay because Jon had no right to try and usurp the throne from Dany who had bled for it; as if Sansa has not bled for the northern independence and crown since book one.

Both women bled (for the Iron throne and the North); both women morally should not have to bend to others just because they would be preferred because they are men (though that is the way of the world in which they are put), so either, by my opinion, they are both power-hungry and only one succeeded or both are ambitious and only one succeeded. Which is a long ass digression.

Now, returning to Jon and Sansa and rulership over the North. Jon self-admittedly says this to Sansa “The knights of the Vale won the battle (of bastards)” and “they rode North for you” and he also leaves to her the lords' chambers which should be of the male, instead he names her lady of Winterfell (over himself — which recalls to Jon telling Stannis that Winterfell belongs to Sansa when he refuses it); yet, when the lords name him king (knowing it was Sansa who won them back Winterfell and is the true born daughter of Ned Stark) he does not even protest, he does not ask Sansa if she wants it. He just takes it. Sansa smiles to him encouragingly and does not begrudge him that — there is no struggle for power there; and Sansa herself tells Jon that her questioning him is because she trusts him enough that she can speak her mind freely differently as when she was under Joffrey's thumb.

So, if Daenerys has a right to begrudge Jon his claim and ask him not to tell anyone, not even his family; why can't Sansa be (if she was) upset she was overlooked again, even after she bled for the North and essentially took it back and saved Jon? Tho I always said she looks more concerned over LF and his schemes than upset at Jon anyway.

Why don't people ever point out that Jon is essentially usurping Sansa?, and later Bran when he returns home and does not offer to him Wardenship over the North as the only true born son of Ned Stark?

About Jon not waiting to know if the troops were alright, I think that was because Jon needed to satisfy Daenerys thirst for power, and he wanted her and her dragon and the threat they posed away from Winterfell as soon as possible. He needed to get her out of the North, so he would rather march ahead and help her take back the Iron throne, getting her away from the North then wait and just stand idly while the tension between Sansa and Daenerys grows and threatens to explode. But that might change in the books, we shall see.

Tho I agree with you, he should have told the truth to his family and worked as a team with them, though he might have done so, only undercover even in the show and the books will provide the inner dialogue needed to prove it. Also him not telling the truth might have been a simplification, it's completely possible that the norther lords already knows, or some of them do; and the Manderlys know about Rickon, the true king as a true born son he comes before Jon even with Robb's decree. So we shall see how that evolves in the book, I think.

People just like to begrudge and accuse Sansa of things she might have thought of doing without any proof and simply ignore other characters (Jon and Daenerys) doing the same, or justify it by them being ambitious. If so, why can't Sansa be ambitious, but she has to be a power-hungry snake? The truth is they hate that she succeeded in where others they deem more worthy failed and they are upset over it, so they try their best to disparge Sansa and her behaviour.

Btw, I feel that if Sansa even had sworn and Jon had been the one to tell them, and she still told the truth, she did so because she was afraid for Jon's life and she believed in him "what if there's someone else? someone better”; she is fighting for Jon, because she believes in him and loves him (“she (Sansa) would rather see me gone and you on the Iron throne” — Daenerys T.) even when that means foresaking her honour and staining her name and her soul with oathbreaking; another parallel with Ned. And I would love her all the more for it.

Hope you enjoyed the read!, sorry for the sarcasm and frustration you can certainly feel in my words over the matter. Thank you for the ask and I wish you a very nice day!

[shieldofrohan]

I don't think GRRM hates Sansa but more in the like of he despises what Sansa as a character represents in AGOT .

Hello Anon,

Martin doesn't hate Sansa, that's for sure.

And I don't think that he despises her character's position in AGOT either.

Tbh, I don't know what exactly you mean by what her character represents in AGOT? So I'll try to assume.

Do you mean naive and romantic girl who wants to become a queen? Who was in kind of denial to achieve her Disney princess dreams?

Let's look at his thoughts about romantic ideals:

He was asked or mentioned most of the stuff that's already been covered, but one thing he talked about that I found particularly interesting was Romanticism. He said that he is a romantic, in the classical sense. He said the trouble with being a romantic is that from a very early age you keep having your face smashed into the harshness of reality. That things aren't always fair, bad things happen to good people, etc. He said it's a realists world, so romantics are burned quite often. This theme of romantic idealism conflicting with harsh reality is something he finds very dramatic and compelling, and he weaves it into his work. Specifically he mentioned that the Knight exemplifies this, as the chivalric code is one of the most idealistic out there, protection of the weak, paragon of all that is good, fighting for truth and justice. The reality was that they were people, and therefore could do horrible cruel things, rape, pillage, wanton killing, made all the more striking or horrifying because it was in complete opposition to what they were "supposed" to be. Really interesting stuff. [SSM 2005]

As you can see, Martin faced what Sansa faced in Agot in his life... So I doubt that he can despise her for what she represents because she represents a part of himself. And this is not just Sansa you know.. we see this in characters like Samwell, Brienne, Jon, Young Jaime etc. He doesn't despise what she represents in AGOT, in contrary he works on this in his books and he makes this one of the central themes of the series.

I found this passage in an article and I want to share it here:

This first paper tackled “Disney Medievalism” by examining the way in which authors like George R.R. Martin smash the traditional fantasy genre with “gritty” medieval realism. Martin takes the reader through this process with Sansa Stark, a character who represents this notion of the “idealised medieval” i.e., knights, fair ladies, chivalry and camp merriment at every turn. Martin destroys Sansa and the reader’s fantasy of the medieval through constantly forcing her into real life situations as far from her perceived ideal as possible.

[...]

“Disney Medievalism” descends from Victorian medievalism. Disney medievalism is for children and Martin’s work breaks from that and is purposely written for adults. Martin sets up situations and characters to show his audience that his books will not be the usual Disney trope common with most fantasy series.

[...]

Sansa struggles to digest this cruel reality and eventually realises that life is not a song. She finally starts to see that her vision of life is immarture just before the Battle of Blackwater however, she still acts like a lady even if her circumstances aren’t ideal. It’s her way of clinging to a vestige of the idealised world she craves.

[...]

Martin’s work is often shocking to fans who come from reading traditional fantasy novels. He writes to portray the realities of the human condition, not the idealised Victorian medievalism that is rampant in most fantasy tales. While he is smashing the mould, he still gives the reader hope that virtue is not entirely out of reach for Sansa and Jamie, it comes from within, not from romaticised ideals, songs and fairly tales.

source

I think this article was on point enough. Sansa faces the harsh reality but Martin still shows the gleams of hope that come from inner romantic ideals. Martin crashes her world view but not her spirit. He makes sure that her weakness AND strength come from the same romantic ideals. She is not wrong to have those ideals... she just needs to face the reality to know better and still hold on to that ideals to make her statement against the world. This is a very powerful message. I hope I managed to explain it well.

BUT do I think he was wrong to write her in less sympathetic light? Yes I do, I can see that he wanted to make readers see her as a mean older sister to Arya "on the surface".

Do I think he made her face the harsh reality too much? Yes I do... she is the only character who can't catch a break. He made her face the same reality over and over again by keep writing perverts molesting her and etc.

And do I think he doesn't examine her inner struggles enough? Yes I do... He doesn't examine the reasons of her so called betrayal to her father enough... he doesn't examine her bitterness towards her family/abusers enough and so many other things.

SO I do believe that he uses her to represent one of the most important themes of the series but when it comes to her as a character he owes her a lot.

BUT he doesn't hate her. And he doesn't despise her. He just failed to utilize her character and he made some mistakes by writing her in bad light sometimes but that's all.

Thanks for the ask. Have a nice day.

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

Been wanting to do this one for a long while. Thinking a lot about Fire and Blood because House of the Dragon is coming up, and there are quite a lot of parallels between the Dance of the Dragons and the main ASOIAF series. More below...

The Dance of the Dragons happened, in part, because the legitimacy of Rhaenyra's children was in question. Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey (how fitting, two bastard children named Joffrey) had brown hair instead of the typical silver-blonde hair of Targaryen and Velaryon children, and their father was not Laenor Velaryon, but rather Harwin Strong. Because of this, Rhaenyra's claim to the Iron Throne was contested, since her heirs would be bastards.

Not too dissimilar to the beginning of the War of the Five Kings, where Cersei, the beautiful queen of King Robert, fathered three bastard children in secret with her brother Jaime, all of them with the golden blond hair of the Lannisters. Then when Robert died, Joffrey ascended the throne, and Ned backed Stannis, who was in truth the rightful heir to the throne... we all know how that went of course. Also, while Rhaenyra's Joffrey was the youngest of the three, Cersei's Joffrey was the oldest of the three.

Rhaenyra and Cersei are very strong parallels. Rhaenyra was secretly involved in an affair with a family member (her uncle Daemon) whilst Cersei was involved in a secret affair with her own family member (brother Jaime). The difference, of course, being that Rhaenyra ended up marrying Daemon because Targs do Targ things, and Cersei just kept her affair with Jaime secret because they weren't Targs. In addition, Rhaenyra ended up losing all three of her children, becoming more and more bitter and distraught, becoming prone to paranoia.

Meanwhile, Cersei has thus far only lost Joffrey, but the valonqar prophecy states she will lose all three of her children. Like Rhaenyra, though, after the death of Joffrey, she does become more prone to paranoia and is increasingly bitter. Rhaenyra was eventually fed to Sunfyre by her half-brother Aegon. If Jaime is truly the valonqar, then Cersei might end up being killed by her brother as well. Eventually, Rhaenyra did end up becoming estranged from Daemon, and currently Cersei is estranged from Jaime.

However, a better Dance parallel with Cersei and Jaime is Rhaenyra and Criston Cole. They were lovers, a future queen with a member of the Kingsguard. They later suffered some sort of estrangement (the nature of which is a source of conflict in terms of what is real) that led to Criston eventually siding with the greens over the blacks during the Dance. Criston also was made Hand of the King, while Cersei presses for Jaime to be made Hand, but he refuses the position.

However, Rhaenyra isn't the only Cersei parallel. Alicent Hightower is another. Like Cersei, she supports her eldest son in claiming the throne against its lawful heir, and is the dowager queen of the former king... And she is the daughter of the Hand of the King, who is a member of one of the richest, most powerful families in the kingdoms. However, Rh

But the parallels run even deeper than that. It shocked me to see how far these go. The story of Aegon III and Viserys II as children is not too dissimilar to both the story of Daenerys and Viserys after Robert's Rebellion and some of the Stark children. Like Dany and Viserys, Viserys II ended up spending a lot of time in the Free Cities, specifically Lys, although he was captured in battle and returned as a hostage, whereas Dany and Viserys spent time in Illyrio's mansion as guests. Arya also went to Braavos, a Free City, but that's about where the similarities end so that isn't very intentional, I think.

Nonetheless, both Aegon and Viserys spent the majority of the war separated from each other and only reunited after it ended. Likewise, the Stark children were separated from each other for the majority of the war as well, and seem poised to reunite after the initial War of the Five Kings is over. And speaking of Starks, Aegon III does have a slight parallel with Bran.

As confirmed by George, Bran will be the King of Westeros by the end of the books, and there is a moniker given to him in the show that actually does appear in the books, of Bran the Broken. Meanwhile, at the end of the Dance, Aegon is now the King, and he is known as the Broken King, because of his extreme PTSD and depression from his traumatic experiences during the war.

Doesn't even end there. Now we get into some of, in my opinion, the biggest parallels with the Dance and ASOIAF proper. We all know about R+L=J, and the Dance has not one, but two big nods to this. First is the story told by Mushroom of when Jacaerys visited Winterfell. Supposedly, he fell in love with Cregan's bastard half-sister Sara Snow, and the two secretly wed before the Winterfell heart tree. Regardless of the validity of the story, Cregan and Jace did end up agreeing to what was called the Pact of Ice and Fire, wherein Jace's firstborn daughter would marry Cregan's son Rickon... son of a Targaryen king marrying the daughter of Lord Stark? Hmmm....

However, the other one is a lot more significant, to me anyways, and that would be the relationship between Crown Prince Aemond One-Eye and Alys Rivers. During the Dance, when Aemond took over Harrenhal, he took Alys Rivers as his paramour. The mysterious Alys was said to be a witch who was a bastard of House Strong, a House that has strong ties to the First Men. So, Valyrian crown prince and a First Man woman in love... but don't worry, it gets extremely apparent afterwards.

Aemond impregnates Alys and leaves her in a tower to go fight Daemon, during which Aemond is killed, leaving Alys all alone. Rhaegar impregnates Lyanna and leaves her in a tower to go fight Robert, during which Rhaegar is killed and leaves Alys all alone... then, years later, during winter, the Hand of the King Tyland Lannister tries to get together a force to retake Harrenhal, as it is held by brigands and thieves and broken men, only to find Alys there... with a young child she calls her and Aemond's trueborn son, and the rightful King of Westeros.

If that isn't enough for you, there is a very distinct similarity in the armour of Rhaegar and Aemond. Rhaegar's armour is mentioned to have been;

Seventeen and new to knighthood, Rhaegar Targaryen had worn black plate over golden ringmail when he cantered onto the lists.

And:

The day had been windy when he said farewell to Rhaegar, in the yard of the Red Keep. The prince had donned his night-black armor, with the three-headed dragon picked out in rubies on his breastplate.

Compare this to Aemond's own armour.

Vhagar had come at last, and on her back rode the one-eyed Prince Aemond Targaryen, clad in nightblack armor chased with gold.

It seems clear to me that George is trying to tell us something. I think Aemond and Alys are a sort of dark mirror to Rhaegar and Lyanna. Rhaegar was considered a very noble, chivalrous prince who was well loved by the smallfolk, and Lyanna had a strong sense of Stark justice (as seen in the Knight of the Laughing Tree story). Meanwhile, Aemond was a narcissistic, psychopathic mass murderer who seems almost Ramsay-esque in his demeanour. And Alys seems more power hungry and eventually took over Harrenhal as its witch queen. But the fact they have what Alys claims to be their trueborn child and true king of Westeros does strongly suggest Rhaegar and Lyanna did eventually marry and Jon is their trueborn son, not a bastard.

I hoped I would be done by now, but there is still even more parallels. Cregan Stark and Eddard Stark are parallels and foils. Ned becomes Hand of the King and travels south to uncover who poisoned the previous Hand of the King, before the War of the Five Kings starts. Meanwhile, Cregan travels south and arrives at King's Landing after the Dance was over, then becomes Hand of the King to uncover who poisoned the previous king (Aegon II). However, while Ned was cautious and not really a big player of the game of thrones, Cregan was ambitious and knew what he was doing, even if his actions weren't always the best (attacking Storm's End, Oldtown, and Casterly Rock after the war was essentially over? Not a good idea, Stark).

The Regency of Aegon III in and of itself is a metacommentary to the writing process of ASOIAF. Originally, after GRRM finished ASOS, he decided to do a 5-year gap between that and what was to be ADWD. However, that ended up not working out, so he scrapped it all together. During that time, Tommen would've remained king, and his reign would be under a regency. So thus, Aegon III having a 5-year regency (from 131 to 136 AC) during that time alludes to that.

And then you get to Unwin Peake, my least favourite character in Fire and Blood. He appears to be a combination of Mace Tyrell and Randyll Tarly. Personality wise, he is very much like Randyll. He is a very outspoken misogynist, a very proud man, and a noted warrior wielding a Valyrian steel blade (that he likely stole from Tumbleton since Orphan-Maker was from House Roxton originally). He also changed out Aegon III's master-at-arms to be Gareth Long, who was a very harsh taskmaster, who routinely engaged in abusive tactics with the boys he trained when they didn't meet his expectations, including days without sleep, doused in tubs of ice water, being beat, and having their heads shaved, which is very reminiscent of Randyll's abuse of Sam as a child.

Unwin and Randyll also dealt with lawful punishment in very harsh ways, as seen by Randyll's treatment of those who break the law at Maidenpool, and Unwin's clearing the Red Keep cells during the Feast of Our Father Above. However, Unwin has a lot of similarities with Mace Tyrell as well. Mace is on the small council, and has routinely tried to engage in nepotism by implanting allies and family members of his into positions at the council and at King's Landing, including marrying Margaery to the king, becoming Hand of the King, having Paxter Redwyne be the lord admiral and Randyll Tarly the lord justiciar, try to bring his uncle Garth to become the new master of coin, and Garth's bastard sons to join the gold cloaks, not to mention the Conclave nearly sending his uncle Gormon to become the new Grand Maester (something Mace will surely approve of), Mace having his son Loras join the Kingsguard, and even try to betroth his heir Willas to Myrcella.

Meanwhile, Unwin engaged in much more rampant and unchecked nepotism. He was Hand of the King and Lord Regent, had Ser Gareth as master-at-arms at the Red Keep, since he was master-at-arms at Starpike, while his widowed aunt Clarice Osgrey was put in charge of Queen Jaehaera's household, Lord George Graceford (a member of the Caltrops that Peake himself was involved in) was appointed as the Lord Confessor, and Ser Victor Risley, the other surviving member of the Caltrops, was appointed to the position of the King's Justice.

He even dismissed Septon Eustace and replaced him with Septon Bernard, another relative of his. He also had his nephew Amaury and his bastard half-brother Ser Mervyn Flowers put onto the Kingsguard, while his uncle Gedmund was made the master of ships. Not to mention his attempted marriage between his daughter Myrielle and Aegon III. So basically the Peakes are the Tyrells of their day, trying to take control of the Seven Kingdoms and the Iron Throne.

And that is all that I can remember! I'm sure there is a lot more, but it's striking to see just how many parallels there are between the Dance and ASOIAF itself.

[ericanoelle]

What if Petyr’s mother and father were still alive?

So, I thought on this one for awhile because I wasn't sure how I wanted to play it. I decided to do something different and an angle that I had not gone down before.

If both Alayne and Symun (made that name up for this) Baelish were alive and Petyr returned from Riverrun broken and abused, they would have been angry. As a young boy who was no more than fourteen, Petyr would have fed into this anger and I think it would have made him let go of his love for Catelyn very early.

He would have a burning hatred for the Tully family in general, more so than just the high ranking members of society in general.

They would have praised his efforts of turning a profit in Gulltown and when it got the attention of Jon Arryn, Petyr still would have been Master of Coin. However, Lysa would have been killed very early- probably "dying in child birth" and leaving Jon Arryn childless.

This puts dent in the "war of the five kings" plan. Instead, he waits for Jon Arryn to die naturally and by the time that happens, Sansa is betrothed to Harry Hardying of the Vale via Ned and Catelyn. So when Robert does ask Ned to be hand of the King, they do not arrange for Sansa and Joffrey to be wed, but Joffrey and Arya.

They all go south (Bran was not pushed from the window since he is older and probably out of the climbing phase). Petyr still betrays Ned like he does in the books but it is done more so for revenge than material gain.

Ned is executed and the war begins. The Vale sides with the North since Sansa is trapped in King's Landing and engaged to Harry. Arya wants OUT of the engagement to Joffrey because she gives as good as he gives and does not let him abuse her without a fight.

Petyr has gotten to know Sansa and the kids and it does break his hatred ever so slightly for Catelyn's family. He has nothing against the children. Sansa grows fond of Petyr or at least, what she knows of him. During the war, he is able to sneak them out of King's Landing and into the Fingers- so live on the small estate with his parents for safe keeping.

Plus, leverage over Catelyn.

Theon does not sack Winterfell because Harry would tell Robb that sending him to the Iron Islands is dumb. Robb STILL messes up and marries the wrong girl. The Red Wedding happens (Harry is not in attendance because he is somewhere else). Petyr knew of the red wedding beforehand but decided not to do anything about it.

Because that meant that Catelyn and Edmure are gone.

During the time at the Fingers, Sansa begins to know more about Petyr. Alayne and Symun are not cruel to the kids but they are not exactly welcoming either. They work and it gives an appreciation to Sansa, Arya and Bran that they didn't have before.

Sansa learns the truth about Petyr, about what Lysa had done and the part Catelyn played. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth and makes grieving for her family odd. Sansa grows close with Alayne and Symun, looking at them for guidance even as she begins to unravel the plot Petyr played in the downfall of her family.

Eventually the war ends and Harry comes for Sansa. They marry and she becomes Lady of the Vale. Joffrey and the Lannisters are dead via the purple wedding and Olenna not wanting Margaery to marry Joffrey. Bran becomes lord of Winterfell, while Arya somehow begins training to be an assassin.

A few years pass and Petyr and Sansa meet again. She is in her mid-twenties at this point. She is a bit jaded because Harry has bastards running all around and her own son, who she named Robb after her brother, is the only happiness she really has. Petyr and Sansa have a long conversation and its not exactly pleasant.

But, it is the start of an affair that they have. Its not exactly a healthy affair (is there any really?) because while Petyr loves Sansa, he still hates her Tully roots. Sansa, of course, is still bitter and upset in the role he played in the death of her family, but the heart wants him.

She ends up having another boy and names him Symun however, the child is obviously Petyr's. Before the boy is born, Harry has an odd accident and dies, leaving Sansa alone with two children.

She rules the Vale until her sons become of age, and the affair with Petyr continues but they never marry, neither really being able to fully commit to one another.

[weirwoodking]

what do you think sansa's endgame is? and i'm not talking ships. like what do you think she'll be doing by the time the books end.

Anon, you accidentally made me write an essay.

So, to try and guess where Sansa could be at the end of the story, we have to look at where she’s heading currently.

She’s currently in the Vale, stuck under the control of Littlefinger. I think Sansa’s arc in TWOW will revolve around breaking free of his manipulation. There’s a line in Bran’s first ASOS chapter that seems to foreshadow this:

Sometimes he could sense them, though, as if they were still with him, only hidden from his sight by a boulder or a stand of trees. He could not smell them, nor hear their howls by night, yet he felt their presence at his back . . . all but the sister they had lost. His tail drooped when he remembered her. Four now, not five. Four and one more, the white who has no voice.

These woods belonged to them, the snowy slopes and stony hills, the great green pines and the golden leaf oaks, the rushing streams and blue lakes fringed with fingers of white frost. But his sister had left the wilds, to walk in the halls of man-rock where other hunters ruled, and once within those halls it was hard to find the path back out. The wolf prince remembered.

—Bran I, A Storm of Swords

It’s hard to find the path back out, but not impossible. I do believe Sansa will return to “the wilds” that belong to her and her siblings.

George was asked once if Sansa still has skinchanging powers even though Lady is gone, and he said she does. We’ll probably see that aspect of her character start to make an appearance in Winds, especially since the presence of magic ramps up with each book. I think it would make sense if she bonded with a bird (such as a falcon or a hawk), seeing as she has quite a lot of bird imagery (particularly caged bird imagery) in her story. Sansa “flying free”, both literally and figuratively, seems like a logical step for her arc.

I do wonder how her connection with the “pack” will be handled. All of the Stark kids except for Sansa have the telepathic bond through their wolves, so I wonder what GRRM will do with Sansa there. It’s heartbreaking, that she doesn’t have that mental connection that the others do. I don’t know if that could somehow be reformed without Lady? There are a lot of unanswered questions about the Stark kids skinchanging powers (and the telepathic bond). Why did their powers only show up when the wolves did? How far do their powers go? How powerful could they become once they’re properly trained? How does the telepathic bond work? Is that a thing that other skinchangers can do? Is it there because of the wolves or is it through the kids themselves? Is it forever broken with Sansa because Lady is gone, or could Sansa reform that connection through another wolf that joins the Stark warg pack? Would it make sense narratively and thematically for GRRM to give Sansa another wolf?

Anyway, no idea what he’ll do with that. (Some sort of scene where Sansa is like “I don’t have a wolf anymore”, and then all the other Starklings crowd around her for a giant group hug and say “that’s okay, you’re still a part of the pack no matter what” is something I could see happening. It’s not like the other kids would treat her any less for not having a direwolf, she’s still their sister.)

A common speculation I see for Sansa’s endgame is that she could become the new head of House Arryn. And, well, the aesthetic of Sansa being Lady of the Eyrie/Lord Protector of the Vale/Warden of the East is definitely cool. The Queen of Birds up in a mountain palace with her flock all around her like a winged army? That’s some gorgeous imagery.

But...

I don’t think Sansa would ever willingly choose to stay in the Vale if she had the option to go home to Winterfell:

She awoke all at once, every nerve atingle. For a moment she did not remember where she was. She had dreamt that she was little, still sharing a bedchamber with her sister Arya. But it was her maid she heard tossing in sleep, not her sister, and this was not Winterfell, but the Eyrie. And I am Alayne Stone, a bastard girl. The room was cold and black, though she was warm beneath the blankets. Dawn had not yet come. Sometimes she dreamed of Ser Ilyn Payne and woke with her heart thumping, but this dream had not been like that. Home. It was a dream of home.

The Eyrie was no home.

—Sansa VII, A Storm of Swords

One of the largest themes in the stories of the younger POV characters (Theon, Jon, Dany, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon (even though he’s not a POV character)) is that of home. Just go on A Search of Ice and Fire and search for the word “home” in each of those characters’ chapters. I think Sansa will end up at her home, with her pack. We know she must return at Winterfell at some point, as she has the final part of this prophecy to fulfill:

"I dreamt a wolf howling in the rain, but no one heard his grief," the dwarf woman was saying. "I dreamt such a clangor I thought my head might burst, drums and horns and pipes and screams, but the saddest sound was the little bells. I dreamt of a maid at a feast with purple serpents in her hair, venom dripping from their fangs. And later I dreamt that maid again, slaying a savage giant in a castle built of snow."

—Arya VIII, A Storm of Swords

The wolf howling in the rain is Grey Wind (or Shaggydog/Rickon, since it’s raining on Skagos when Jon dreams of his “black brother”), the clangor is the Red Wedding and the bells are the ones on Jinglebell’s hat when Catelyn sawed at his throat, and the maid at the feast is Sansa. And Sansa will “slay a savage giant in a castle built of snow.” That castle is obviously Winterfell, although the fandom has yet to concretely agree on who the “savage giant” is.

Evidently, Sansa will return to Winterfell, and she probably has to get there before winter really starts setting in, or else the journey would be nearly impossible in the deadly weather. So, probably at some point in the next book.

Now, I believe that there’s a big moment coming for Sansa in TWOW: the moment where she unrepresses/uncovers her memories. Sansa knows a lot of important things. She knows the truth about Jon Arryn, she knows that her hair net was used to poison Joffrey, she knows that Littlefinger was involved in the disappearance of Jeyne Poole. Sansa’s memory swapping/adjusting/erasing/repressing (whatever you wanna call it) is important to her character. It’s her brain’s way of coping with the trauma she’s been through.

I think that one of these memories coming to the forefront is going to trigger something big: Littlefinger’s downfall. I speculate that what will most likely come out in the open first is what happened to Jeyne Poole. Sansa finding out what Baelish did to her closest childhood friend could definitely be what turns her against him.

Warning, I’m going to mention the sh*w here for a second. George has said that he wrote Sansa and Jeyne’s interactions into season 1, and that he tried to build Jeyne as a character, but her scenes were cut by the showrunners. Clearly, George cares about her, her friendship with Sansa, and her value in the story, he was very upset about the deletion of her character and of Sansa’s friendship with her.* I believe the reveal of what happened to Jeyne will be a major part of Sansa’s story in Winds. She’s repressed her memories of Jeyne and her disappearance because it is, understandably, too much for her mind to handle thinking about.

The reveal of this memory could be a catalyst to the other memories coming forward, especially since they involve Littlefinger. I think Sansa will be a key part in wrapping up the political aspect of the story, she can reveal the truth of why the Stark-Lannister conflict began all the way back in book 1. She can expose Littlefinger’s lies and schemes. That’s where I think her narrative is heading, at least in TWOW.

I’m not sure what Sansa’s story arc will be in ADOS (I’m not sure what anyone’s story will be in ADOS, but Sansa’s is a bit more of a blank page than others). If the Littlefinger conflict gets wrapped up in TWOW, I don’t know where her story will go from there. Supposedly, she could be in Winterfell at that point. What will happen then… well, then it’s Long Night time. Sansa is not one of the “key five players” (Tyrion, Dany, Arya, Bran, and Jon), but I still think she’ll have an important role in the book. I think Sansa and Arya’s relationship is something that will be focused on a lot through both of their chapters in the final novel. We’re going to see Ned’s quote, “you need her, as she needs you”, really matter.

No matter where her arc goes over the next two books, though, I do think she’ll end up at Winterfell. And like I said, I don’t think Sansa would choose to leave her home again after returning. I think that her story will end with her staying at Winterfell with the other kids. The Stark children would never willingly leave each other after reuniting. Jon literally describes the separation from his siblings as “a deep ache of emptiness, a sense of incompleteness.” And, of course, the iconic line Ned delivers to Arya: “The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.” I don’t see any of their endings being them as “lone wolves” again.

So, to answer your question, I think the endgame for Sansa will be her back in Winterfell with her family, where she belongs, where she is strongest. I do suspect, however, that there will be some sort of epilogue at the end of ADOS, possibly a “10 years later” or somewhere along those lines. Where she’ll be then, I have no idea. She’ll probably be involved with something politically by then, like ruling or advising.

*Based on what George himself has said about the show’s post-season 4 portrayal of Sansa, I don’t think her story will be similar in any way to the show’s very different version of her character (same goes for everyone). George is typically very mild when talking about the show, saying stuff like “they chose to go down a different path with the story”, but this is one of the only times he flat out criticized the show for how wrong it is. He was very upset the show cut out her storyline. He has also said that “every character has a different end” in the books. So take from that what you will.

[caithyra]

I’m suuuure he’s shocked /s

GRRM: “Oh woes! I have created a perfect and supporting family for my main characters and I need conflict to make it interesting! What could possibly ruin a good family?”

GRRM: “Ah! A girly girl, of course!” *Creates Sansa.* “And a traitorous bitch at that who would chose to support and protect her child over her birth family who do not rely on her for protection! Surely all shall realize what a bad person she is! It’s not like her own mother would be condemned for abandoning a child that’s not even her own!” *Creates first outline.* “But wait! She shall be prepubescent at the start of the story...” *Starts creating the actual story.* “I shall introduce her through the resentful tomboy’s perspective! And I shall have grown men slobbering over this prepubescent girly girl because we all know that’s ~*historically accurate*~! Oh, people do not like her? I am shocked! Shocked!”

Like, it says a lot about a narrative that when the author wants to create conflict and shake up a healthy family dynamic in a supremely patriarchal world, that he introduces a prepubescent, feminine sister who is unfavored by her father compared to her tomboy sister (even Sansa’s betrothal is a sham even if it would have made her future queen-in-waiting. If everything went as Ned planned, her virtue would have been ruined on the Trident and after he breaks the betrothal with Joff by accusing him of being a bastard, Sansa’s play-acting at love and having been alone with Joff would have ruined her for good, future prospects and the best she would get is either a disinherited second son who no one else wants to marry or a jumped up house who wants some blue blood like the Freys, Baelishes or Westerlings-Spicers that no one important likes.

Arya, by being younger, and more like Lyanna, would have gotten the queenhood and crown prince by Robert’s second wife after Cersei is disposed of, since Robert really wants to marry his child to Ned’s children, so no one better tell me that Ned ever put Sansa ahead of Arya the same he puts Arya ahead of Sansa. He freaking hides behind his prepubescent daughter’s skirts while investigating what he believes are ruthless murderers who had no qualms killing the most powerful men in the realm in a hyper-patriarchy! And it is the other daughter he warns about dangers and gives lessons in fighting! Like what was Ned thinking would happen with Sansa? Did he even care? Did he think he could just sweep it under rugs and forget it? She will need to marry within recent memory of her scandalous conduct since she’ll be twenty in less than a decade! And marriageable age in Westeros is 16! And yet the fandom goes “Poor Ned to have that traitorous bitch for a daughter~” “She should have listened to Ned who never spoke to her and explained himself or the world wouldn’t be ending~” “I don’t hate Sansa but she was sooo stupid for not blindly obeying her loving father who punishes her for her sister’s sins and never explains himself~” is it any wonder my patience with Ned Stark’s parental fuck ups ran out? Congrats, fandom, you made me hate him by excusing his fuck ups and blaming them on his daughter all the time!).

GRRM tries to make it gray, but he knows full well what kind of audience he writes to when he writes the relationships between Cat and Jon, and Arya and Sansa and should have compensated.

Hell, he should have made Joff a good person, prince and promising future king that most girls would like to marry, only to show that’s not what Ned cares about (after all, unless Ned wants Sansa to be abused like half the fandom, he had no idea that Joff was bad when he betrothed them), he cares about birth and truth and “High As Honor” over practical things like “Winter is Coming and Staying for Ten Freezing Years and Does Not Care Who Sits On the Throne So Lets Not Start a Civil War with One of the Most Powerful Families in the Realm, hm?”.

I mean, no one likes Drizzt Do’Urden’s sisters/mother/the matriarchy as a whole, do they? The Dark Elf Trilogy predates ASoIaF by six years, and should have shown a competent writer exactly what the state of womanhood in the Fantasy genre was like. And if you’re going “well, the matriarchy is evil!” I would like to point out that people hate Cattie-brie who is not part of that matriarchy. Yeah. There’s a reason why Menzoberranzan could be written that way and published and become popular, and it was not that Fantasy readers love and support and makes the effort to identify with and understand female characters (nor does most authors, come to think of it... see female friendships in ASoIaF that are without any sexual, incest, or abusive~ Like Arianne and Tyene being as close as sisters in the Later Books Which Are Not Early Installment Weirdness... Oh wait...).

Heck, in the Belgariad, another series predating both of them, things were more subtle but hardly better for female characters; Polgara is a mother figure who gets to have a moment of being imperfect, but to anyone reading the story, it is clear that Garion is the true victim in the circumstances and conspiracies Polgara’s family has woven around him, and that his anger is the immediate reaction of finding out the truth (he just found out how/why he was orphaned and now has the world on his shoulders! And the characters bag on him for not being understanding of the 1000s of years old woman who lied to him and now is sulking. It is blatantly obvious to the readers that it is not the male character in the wrong). The less said about Ce´Nedra (half hyper-sexual dryad, spoiled princess who wants bigger breasts, et cetera) the better. Heck, the less said about the lovable oaf of the hero group committing marital rape on his estranged wife to cure her of being a bitch and turn her loving the better.

The Narnia books predates even that, and Sansa’s direct parallel is Susan, and, yeah... “A silly and vain young woman” with “Plenty of time to mend” sounds very familiar when you hear how people blame Sansa and wants to force her into abusive marriages with repulsive men to mend her.

Not to mention that in Lord of the Rings and related works women are either paragons of virtue, evil, unnamed or are chastised for being ambitious, with a few, notable exceptions allowed to make “wrong” choices, and, well, just see the Elwing discourse in fandom and how her murderers who kidnapped and kept her children (Elrond and Elros, yes, that Elrond for those not familiar with Tolkien’s Legendarium and only watched the movies) as hostages are their ~*real parents*~ after committing a third almost-genocide against her people.

Yeah, no. GRRM doesn’t get to pretend he’s shocked and/or confused by his readers’ reception to Sansa (and Cat). He does not live, read nor write in a vacuum. This shit has been part of Fantasy fandom since long before ASoIaF was an errant idea in his head.

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part VIII

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 2,165

Note: Leave your thoughts please! 💛

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.9

“I don’t want to leave King’s Landing! What about you and Tommen? No one can separate us! Please Y/N, I don’t want to go to Dorne.” Myrcella was weeping holding you tight by the waist.

“You’ll be safer in Dorne, little one. It’s dangerous if you stay. I promise you I’ll visit Sunspear as soon as I can. They will give you a warm welcome. Nothing bad is going to happen, okay?” You keep saying to ease her worries. She’ll be just fine, you thought.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“You are my sister. We’ll be in each other’s hearts till the end of time.” You wiped her tears.

“Princess Y/N, Princess Myrcella.” Sansa greeted you. Another two courtiers arrived to be with her.

“Lady Sansa, I love your dress! Did you make it yourself?” Myr announced.

“Yes, princess.” She chuckled.

“You should teach me how to do this beautiful stitching. Sadly we don’t have the time.”

“I’ll send you a golden gown as a present on your nameday” She grinned and went off to play hide & seek with the ladies. “You are going to miss your sister.” Sansa said.

“A lot. But I know it has a purpose. She’s strong.” You nodded.

“Just like you. I miss Arya. We had a complicated relation, she was always so annoying and I was a brat. I should have cherished the moments we had together. She’s out there all alone.” With a sad voice she spoke.

“We will find her.”

“May I ask you something?” She doubtfully inquired.

“Anything.”

“You don’t like to be around Joffrey?”

“No. And I’m glad he hardly ever request my presence. We had a messy childhood. I’ve been closer to my siblings since they were born. They brought light to my life. There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for them.”

“I admire you, Y/N.” You smiled.

“Lady Sansa, do you fancy poetry?”

“I do! It’s very romantic.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear that. I made you a poem... you inspired me. Here it goes...

Big vivid blue eyes

Gentler than the ocean sea

Long silky auburn locks

Warmer than a sunset

This a lady, a lady who will own the world.”

You created it the very first day you meet her, of course, you wouldn’t recite it to her when you barely knew each other. It was way too short but it meant something.

“Woah... Y/N I’m speechless. You are so sweet. I don’t deserve a friend like you.” Right, friend.

“Of course you do.” You said. She kissed your cheek the same way you kissed hers the other night. Swiftly and subtly. Gods it felt so good. If anyone was watching they could see how blushed you two were.

“May I ask specifically what the King has in mind?” Tyrion was weary of his sister’s stubbornness.

“You may, specifically, or you may ask vaguely. The answer will be the same.” She nonchalant answered.

“It’s important we talk about this.” He insisted.

“It’s the King’s royal prerogative to withhold sensitive information from his councilors.” Cersei was looking from the balcony to the gardens the longing stare Sansa had on you. You watched with a heavy heart over the younger princess so you weren’t paying much attention. The Queen Regent didn’t like the idea of that kind of closeness between you both. She didn’t suspect anything either, not more than devotion the northern lady held for Y/N. Still, it bothered her you always stood up for her. “That whore should stay away from my daughter.” She declared.

“Why? It seems they get along pretty well, your son loves to torture her. She found someone who treats her right. I don’t quite understand the reason you’re mad about it.”

“She’s poisoning her. Manipulating her. Y/N is so naive. That girl thinks she has her under her claws at her disposition.”

“What you are saying doesn’t make any sense. They are just girls. What harm can they do to each other?

“Will you send her away as well? Maybe you should have considered Y/N instead of Myrcella.”

“You haven’t changed a bit. Still so bitter and distant with Y/N. She knows how to fight, how to defend herself. She’s brave. Just like her father Robert Baratheon was. Only three of your four children are sane. But I’m really curious about this... how can you put one of them above the other? Being so hurtful with your actions and your words, Y/N experienced that. Where were you when she needed you the most?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I love her. In my own way. She’s my blood, and for good or for bad, blood is for life.” Tyrion let out a tired sighed of disbelief. Then he left.

“My friend...” Varys approached you.

“What news, Lord Varys?”

“Your uncle Renly. He’s dead.”

“How?”

“He was stabbed in the heart. Some say it was Lady Catelyn Stark, his own Kingsguard, and others Stannis Baratheon himself. We don’t know for sure.” You knew this was a high possibility due to the quarrel between Stannis and Renly, though it was soon you were pretty sad about the fact he’s gone. He was always good to you.

It was the day Myrcella was leaving home to be in an unknown place. She was terrified, truth be told you were too but you had to remain strong and positive.

“My lioness, I’m sure the next time we see each other you’ll be even more beautiful. Five years, twenty years, we’ll always be the same.” You were trusting Dorne to take care of her.

“Just a bit older. Who is going to stay with me when I have a nightmare or when-“

“As father told me, don’t be scared even in the face of danger. You will never be alone. I love you.” You kissed her forehead bidding her goodbye.

“Promise you will never forget about me Y/N.”

“I promise.”

“May the seven guide the princess on her journey...”

Tommen was sobbing, the septa cleaned his face. You held him whispering she was going to be safe and soon enough you’ll be seeing her again.

“You sound like a cat meowing for his mother. Princes don’t cry.” Joffrey hissed with his arms folded. You were to busy comforting your baby brother to pay him any attention.

“I saw you cry.” Sansa blunted out.

“Did you say something, my lady?” He turned to her.

“My little brother cried when I left Winterfell.”

“So?”

“It seems a normal thing.”

“Is your little brother a prince?”

“No?”

“Not really relevant, isn’t it?” He irritably replied.

“Some people care for their siblings, you don’t care for any of us. That’s why you are so stone-hearted about it.” You kept looking at Myrcella almost gone boat. He gave you a withering look before walking. Sansa was emotionless, perhaps because of her younger brothers, Bran and Rickon. Hopefully, they were alright.

“Come, dog.”

You followed the guards. In the hall, a crowd started to yell things at the King. Tommen was taken back to the Keep while your mother and you stayed close to each other, she held your hand.

“Hail to the King!”

“Murderer! Bastard!”

“Please your grace, we are hungry!”

Suddenly a piece of cow excrement was thrown to his arrogant face. “Who threw that? I want the man who threw that! Find him and bring him to me! Kill them! Kill them all!” Sansa handmaidens were keeping her close. The Lannister guardsmen shielded you and Cersei while the folk tried to get to your eldest brother. They were rioting, it was chaos.

“Move, move!” Tyrion ducked his head. You tried to follow the tall girl but she left your sight.

You entered a big gate to safety. “Where’s the Stark girl?” Tyrion shouted.

“Let them have her!” Joffrey furiously screamed.

Wasting no time you ran to the exit not caring about the riot happening outside.

You entered a short corridor, almost tripping by your feet. When you found her she was on the ground with her clothes ripped off, crying while trying to break free from the man’s grip.

“Have you ever been fucked?” You heard the disgusting person say.

“Take your hands off her!” You pushed one of them and hit him. The other flee and the last punched you in the stomach and then slapped you. The northerner was terrified. In that precise moment, before you kept fighting, The Hound arrived and spun the leader down, then disemboweled him, the second begged for mercy, resulting in him cutting his throat. He first offered to help you what you refused so he could carry the Stark girl. She was in shock.

Now you were in the gated area. You heavily sighed. “The Princess is hurt! So is the little bird.”

“Thank you, Sandor.” He nodded.

“Y/N! Are you alright? Did the assailants do something to you?” Tyrion worriedly asked you.

“No, no I’m fine.” You shook your head, trying to catch your breath.

“That was stupid.”

“Well, Joffrey is a slow thinker.”

“Your mother is going to be so angry about this.”

“I don’t care, uncle. You know it.” You smiled at him and he shook his head in disapprove. “My lady. They will take you back to the Red Keep. I will personally treat your wounds okay?”

“You already have done too much, my princess. I-“

“Please.” She nodded. “I’ll be with you in a few moments.”

You entered Cersei’s chambers, she was expecting you. Both hands on her waist. “What the hell were you thinking?! Are you an idiot? I’ve sent one of my daughters away and now the other is almost raped and killed the same day!” She was all hysterical.

“Mother, your son wasn’t deciding. Someone had to. Without Lady Sansa we’ll never see Jaime again. I’m the only person who cares for the innocent people? I wouldn’t let them hurt her.” You fought back.

“She is not worth risking your life for. You are trying to follow your father to the grave! It’s not about honor. It’s about your safety. I can’t lose you, Y/N.” She argued.

“You won’t.” You walked out leaving her with a mad expression.

“She was so brave Shae! She came to my aid when I thought those people were going to hurt me. She’s so fearless.”

“It was a very silly act. Things could have gotten worse.”

“But they didn’t. Sandor also helped. But Y/N,s boldness is remarkable.” Shae peered at her knowing what Sansa really meant.

You knocked on the redhead door. “I hope it’s not too late. My mother kept talking, I couldn’t wiggle my way out.” You excused yourself.

“Come in. I was waiting for you. Shae insisted on do it herself.”

“Princess. My lady.”

“Goodnight, Shae. She’s in good hands.” She gave you a little smile.

“Did you have supper already?”

“Yes, I took a quick bath too.” Sansa gestured you to sit down.

“I see. Your hair is still wet.” You quipped.

“You saved me. Again.” She began.

“Actually, Sandor saved us. I’m glad I arrived in time.”

“I thought they were going to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t let them. I won’t let anyone touches you ever again. I’m sorry. It must have been very frightening to you.”

“It was. You rescued me. I’m so grateful, Y/N. But your life is way more important than mine. Stop doing it.”

“I’ve heard that before.” You took the kerchief smearing in it some ointment.

“I’m serious. You are very brave. I don’t want you to get seriously injured because of me.” She insisted, more serious this time.

“I wouldn’t blame you. No harm will come to you while I’m around. I mean it. What I wouldn’t do to save you?”

“You are so stubborn. I would have given them bread if I had it. I hate the King more than any of them.”

“I know you would and I know you do, we share the same feeling about him.”

“Oh, gods! I’m a fool! I didn’t notice until now that you are also hurt.” She concernedly acknowledged.

“It doesn’t matter.” You brushed it off.

“Of course it does.”

“You first.” With the fabric, you began to swab her eyebrow cut.

“Auch.”

“It’s not deep. Does it hurt?”

“A little. What about yours?” She carefully touched your lower lip with her thumb.

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Let me clean it.” You found her eyes staring at your lips.

“The-the cut will disappear soon.” She stuttered.

“I won’t.” She looked up yo meet your eyes.

“What?”

“I won’t stop risking my life to keep you safe.” Not only you were doing this for the promise you made to Lady Catelyn, or because it was the right thing to do, not even for honor or recognition, but because you were falling harder and harder for her, you were deeply in love with the she-wolf.

[pixie88]

Rem’s Birthday BBQ

Chapter 5 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: Remy set Laila up on a date, but Laila and Harry aren’t happy about it. How will the birthday celebrations go? Yes, Laila’s embarrassing moment has happened to me haha! I hope you like it.

If you would like to be ADDED or REMOVED just let me know!

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff, Mild NSFW & Adult Language.

Word Count: 2106

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

"A date?" Laila questions him "Yeah, with one of Alec's mates" Rem seems super excited about this "What friend?" Harry asks, looking over to Alec "Freddie, I didn't think he'd be Laila's type, but Rem seems to think that he is" as soon as Alec tells him its Freddie Harry chuckles "Freddie?! Really?! Good luck Laila!" There is almost a hint of jealously in his voice.

"Come on, Harry he's not that bad!" Alec tries not to laugh through his lie "She'll fall asleep before they have even ordered drinks. He has no chat when it comes to girls" Laila looks over to Rem "So you're setting me up with a bore?" Rem shook his head "No, he is actually really funny! Ignore these two! I just want you to find someone...it's been 8 years since Josh...you need to get over him at some point!"

A sadness still came over Laila each time someone mentions his name "Rem! Look, it's your birthday and I don't want to fall out with you over this, so here is your present I'm going to walk away from this conversation before I say something I regret!" She gets up leaving before anyone can say anything.

"Auntie Laila!!!" Carly collides with her "Come on, we are all on the zip swing" Laila parents had a huge back garden surrounding their house, so her dad built a park for the grand kids. All the kids loved the zip swing they would take turns on having a go and pulling the seat back each time.

Having 3 older brothers Laila had a total of 11 nieces and nephews. Chris had Lilly - 11, Luna - 9 and Carly - 5, Max had the twins Isla and Arya - 10, Nate had Alfie - 5, Issac - 7, Blake - 11 and  Zeppy the oldest at 18.

"Auntie Laila" Alfie zipped past on the swing as he hit the end the swing flies up nearly dropping Alfie off backwards "Wow, be careful Alf!" Laila watches her nephew run back to the start with the swing in tow.

"Where are your parents?" she looked round at the kids "Nanny and Grandad had us stay over last night. We had a camp out in the living room" Carly tells her "Why don't you have a go?" Carly pushes her towards the swing "Yeah, Auntie Laila!" Alf cheers her on "But....!" she hesitates but the kids aren't taking no for an answer.

Laila gets on, gripping the swing for dear life "3...2....1...Go!" they count her down, she zips along the line, then as it hits the end.... the chair flies forward up into the air and Laila's grip loosens, she fell backwards onto the grass the swing above her with no passenger "LAILA!!" she hears a familiar voice shout within seconds she knows whose voice it is as he stands over her "Are you OK?" Harry looks down at her as soon as he asks, she bursts out a laugh "Other than dying of embarrassment? Yeah, I'm OK" he starts to laugh with her as he helps her up off the ground.

"You went down before the seat did!" he laughs, "I didn't expect it to throw me off," she looks over to the kids who are laughing at her, "Should we get you a drink?" he puts his hand on the small of her back leading her to a table.

She sits as Harry grabs them a drink "Laila, are you OK?" Terry looks at her worried "Dad, I'm fine," she laughs, "Still, I better go and tell them to be careful" he leaves her alone at the table walking over to the kids.

Harry hands her a Pimms can "I wasn't sure what you wanted but thought you can't go wrong with Pimms right?" he sits down next to her with a beer in his hand "Actually, I don't like Pimms" she lies, "Oh! I can go and get you something else?" he's about to get up when she giggles and pulls him back down "I'm joking!" She laughs, he narrows his eyes at her with a grin "That was just mean!" he laughs, "Erm...Its looks like you have a date this Friday!" She scrunches up her nose at the question "Argh...I need to find a way to get out of that one!"

"Oh?" he's sips his beer trying to sound neutral "I know Rem means well..." he has to ask. It's now or never right?! "What was he talking about earlier? When he mentioned someone called Josh?" He watches as her walls slowly go up.

She turns to him "No judgment?" He nods just wanting to listen to her "OK, Josh was someone I met in college, we were together for over 4 years. Engaged, but then he got sick...." she takes a deep breath gearing up to say the words "He passed away...." she looks down at her hands in her lap.

He wished he never asked now, he takes her hand.

She looks up at him "It took me a while to date after that and I'm not trying to give you a big head or anything, but you are probably the first person to have made it to a second date," he tries to hide his smirk, but it breaks out "Must be my amazing dates" she shook her "About that... do you do normal dates" she raises a questioning brow at him.

He chuckles "I...to be honest with you, I've never done dates as extravagant as I have with you.." Laila tuts at him finding it hard to believe "Honestly, it's the truth. You have this thing about you that makes me just want to impress you"

She lets out a little laugh, "I love the big wow dates, but I prefer simple ones," he smirks at her "Now she tells me! What if I was to do a movie night and dinner at mine? You would be happy with that?" She pretends to think for a second "It depends on your cooking skills" she winks, he howls "My cooking skills are fantastic actually!" she shoves him "Of course they are!"

"Friday come over and I'll show you!" she knows exactly why he has chosen to do it on that day "Have you forgotten? I have plans," he knows she's baiting him, "We both know you don't want to go on that date and I wasn't lying earlier when I said you'll be asleep before ordering" for a split second she could see a hint of jealousy in his eyes as she decides what to do "I'll let you know" she smirks, teasing him.

Later everyone is a little tipsy now and Nate drags Laila up to dance "Nate, No!" he isn't listening to her "Come on, every family gathering, we always get up and dance!!" all the kids that haven't fallen asleep are up dancing too. Pharrell Williams - Happy is playing everyone that is still at the party is up dancing except Alec and Harry who are watching from the sidelines.

"Grandad, you dance like an old man!" Carly laughs at Terry doing the robot, Remy dances his way over to Laila "I'm waving my white flag!" she shook her head at her oldest friend "Rem! I'm sorry I snapped a bit earlier," she hugs him "Hey, you made up for it as soon as you came flying of the zip swing. That was priceless! But one thing I did notice Harry seem to run to your rescue pretty quick?" Remy gives her a look he always give her when he knows there's more to the story.

She can't keep it a secret from him anymore, she looks round Harry isn't within earshot, but his eyes are glued to her, "If I tell you something you can't tell anyone! I mean not even Alec! Pinky promise?" Rem rolls his eyes "Laila, how old are we again?!" she huffs at him "OK, I pinky promise! Now what is going on?" she checks one more time "Harry and I have been on a couple of dates" Remy's face lights up "W...what!? You and Harry?! When did this start?" Rem has 21 questions for her.

"It started after your stag weekend. He came to the salon for a haircut and it went on from there," she whispers to him, "Do you like him? Have you....you know?" He winks at her, she can't believe he just asked her that "Rem! No! We haven't! I do like him" Rem pull her in for a hug "Lulu! I'm happy you've finally gotten yourself back out there!"

She blushes "Lulu, you haven't called me that in years!" She laughs. "Called her what?" They hear behind her, turning they saw Alec and Harry joining them "Lulu, I used to call Laila it growing up"

"Well, Lulu you won't mind if I stole my Remy for a dance?" Alec spins Remy, she laughs, "No, of course not. I'm happy for you to take him off my hands! His dances moves are awful" she laughs.

Alec and Remy start dancing together with everyone else.

"Lulu huh?" She turns towards him "Oh, no! Don't tell me you're going to start teasing me about it?!" He laughs, "Nah, I might start calling you it myself. Oh, by the way your dad offered to let me stay the night" she looks at him confused "He did?!" Why has he done that? "I told him I couldn't have more than one beer because I was going to drive Alec and Remy home, so he said we could all stay"

"That's my dad for ya! I'm staying the night too" her dad had already told her that she could stay a few days ago "We could be sleeping next door to each other again?" He winks. "Just keep the snore session down, yeah?!" she laughs, "I do not snore!" he protests "OK, if you want to believe that!" She teases him more "You are so irritating, but I like it. I really want to kiss you!" she smirks "Sorry, but you'll have to keep your lips to yourself!" He huffs.

Its after midnight Remy, Alec, Harry and Laila were the last ones to head the bed "Night Lulu and Haribo!" a drunk Remy sways into his old bedroom with Alec. "Which room did your mum say I was in?" Harry whispers trying not to wake everyone "The guest room next to my old ro...." his lips crash to hers, the kiss is electrifying making every nerve ending stand on end.

They stumble into her bedroom onto the bed. His lips trail down her pulse line, his hand glides up her leg, slipping under her playsuit and brushes against her centre "Harry?" he pulls away to look at her. "I want to....its just..." he strokes her face and smiles as he collapses on the bed next to her "It's fine. We can take it slow" she felt relieved he understood. "Not too slow we can't cuddle?" he lets out a soft chuckle "I do like to cuddle" he wraps his arms around her.

"I am sorry! It's been so long since I've been with someone in that way," he kisses her forehead "Don't give it a second thought. I can do slow" he begins to stroke her hair making her eyes drift.

~*~*~*~

"Laila! Are you awake?" she heard her mum call out, followed by a knock on the bedroom door, she looks around the room realising where she is.

With Harry is asleep next to her "Laila?" her mum calls out again.

Shit! She can't have her catch Harry in here! Laila tries to wake him "Harry! Wake up!" he begins to stir, she silences him with a finger to his lips.

When the door handle twists Laila pushes him off the bed and he falls to the floor with a thud "Ouch!"

"Laila, Are you..?" Laila smiles at her mum "Mum?! You alright?" Laila tries not to blush.

"Yep, I just wondered if you wanted breakfast?" Laila nods "Great, what about Harry?" Laila is shocked by her mum's question "What? Harry?" she asks, "Sweetheart, if you're going to get him to hide behind the bed at least make sure his feet aren't sticking out the bottom or did you forget he's nearly 6 foot? Well, I suppose we are all the same size when we're doing the horizontal tango" she winks as turns to leave the room "I'll take his silence as a yes to breakfast" she closes the bedroom door.

Harry pops his head up smiling at a very red Laila....

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 6.

@secretaryunpaid​ @lem-20​ @aussieez​ @khoicesbyk​ @irisofpurple​ @shewillreadyou​ @txemrn​ @pixiezilla6​

[orangeflavoryawp]

Jonsa - “Red Curtain”, Part Two

Whoopsie.  Just realized I never posted the update.  Forgive me, I’m a mess.

Red Curtain

Chapter Two: Orgel’s Rules

"She may as well have spelled it out in the convenient magnetic alphabet along the fridge door. In big, colorful, kindergarten-sized letters:

Mistake.

That's what she was calling it." - Jon and Sansa. Summer's for lovin', after all.

Oh, and crisis. That, too.

Read it on Ao3 here.

Part 1 | 2

* * *

The first and only time Jon Snow kissed Sansa Stark was back in middle school. She was 12, and he was 14, and neither of them were particularly good at ignoring peer pressure at that point in their pre-pubescent lives, so when they were locked in a closet for 'seven minutes in heaven' at Jeyne Poole's birthday party, well, he was just a budding teenage boy, after all.

And Sansa Stark was pretty. Always was. Except he hadn't really noticed it so specifically until that moment. She was pretty when she tucked her hair behind her ear nervously, and she was pretty when she folded her skirt underneath her knees as she settled on the floor of the closet, and she was pretty when she leaned forward and placed her hands on his shoulders in a sudden surge of courage, eyes wide and unblinking, her throat bobbing.

Hell, she was even pretty when she pulled back after the initial kiss, mortified and stuttering, when her teeth had clacked against his in her fervency, her determination. And sure, he had laughed, and she only blushed harder, her hands ripping from his shoulders instantly as though burned, and he'd known he'd fucked up then, but she was – god, she was so fucking pretty, and endearing, and she was Robb's little sister, oh god, only not so little anymore, not since the summer before, and definitely not now, and Jon had surged forward without thinking, meeting her mouth once more with his, a hand curled urgently around her arm to pull her to him, his other lighting on her shoulder, and he'd kissed her.

Sansa Stark.

He'd kissed her.

Even now, he remembers the way her lashes fluttered against his cheek, and the way she'd come unbalanced, nearly tipping them to the floor, their mouths jostling together for a brief, unbearably awkward moment, before she was suddenly laughing, pulling back, her fingers curling in his sleeve.

The truth is, he thinks that might have been the start of it all. Never mind the fact that they'd mutually agreed never to disclose the act to anyone else, or that they'd both admitted in the blaring aftermath that it had been a first kiss for each of them, or that the comfort and easiness of their following conversation had probably been the highlight of their imprisonment in Jeyne's closest.

Because he could talk to Sansa, he realized suddenly. In different ways than he could with Robb or Arya. Because she didn't laugh at him when he said it was his first kiss, and because she said she thought he'd done rather well, even as she was blushing furiously, and because she told him she was glad it was him she got stuck with (not that she'd said 'stuck with' per se, but he didn't really mind the insinuation anyway, which was kind of refreshing to realize, if he was being honest).

A stupid game, really. But there are worse things than being locked in a closest with Sansa Stark for seven minutes.

A fumbling, wet kiss. Some self-deprecating laughter. An honest conversation about the perils of navigating teenager-ism. No big deal.

The problem though, as he discovered shortly after, was that he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He's pretty sure he left that closet at least half in love with her.

Which is ridiculous, and yet, here he is, at the annual Stark summer cookout, beer in hand, trying his damnedest to look casual in his lean against the counter beside Ned when Sansa glides into the kitchen with bags of burgers and dogs and pork chops hanging from each arm. She stops short, blinking those sharp blue eyes at him, pushing her sunglasses further back along her hair, a smack to her lips.

"Jon," she greets, and it's not acidic, at least. Always the polite one, he reminds himself.

But fuck, she's still so inarticulately pretty. His chest heaves at the realization, his mouth parting unconsciously. He nearly slips from his lean against the counter.

See, the next time he very nearly kissed Sansa Stark was last winter. And okay, directly post-break up – on her part – was definitely not the time for it to happen.

"Harry's drunk. And getting handsy with his secretary," she'd said when she'd called him in the middle of what was supposed to be Harry's company's Christmas party.

"Sansa," he said, wanting to reach through the receiver and tug her to him.

"Pick me up?" she asked, voice cracking just the slightest.

"I'll be there in ten."

He was there in less.

In hindsight, it had been a long time coming. Jon knew Harry wasn't going to last. But try telling Sansa that. She was as stubborn as her sister, even if she was never so brash about it. She was the quiet sort of immovable. Like stone.

But Jon swallowed back his I told you so in favor of late night tacos and sharing a park bench.

"He's intolerable," she said, wiping sauce from her lip.

Jon only hummed his agreement, biting into his own taco.

"And a shitty liar. And sleezy, ugh, so sleezy. And – and not nearly as good in bed as he swears."

Jon laughed around the food in his mouth, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She huffed. "God's gift," she mocked. "Ha!"

Jon watched the way she picked at the wrapper of her taco, her brows furrowing. She looked at him then.

"But you knew all that," she said, more a statement than a question.

He cocked his head at her. "I did."

She sighed, shaking her head. "God, I'm so stupid."

"Hey, hey, no," he said, straightening as he turned fully to her.

Sansa kept her eyes on the half-eaten taco in her lap, silent.

He wanted to wrap an arm around her shoulders, or brush a thumb across her cheek, or take her hand in his, but he still had this stupid taco in his hand, dripping sauce all over his fingers, and he looked around for a napkin, found none, got even more frustrated, heaved a sigh as he turned back to her. She was still staring down at her lap. So he just shuffled closer to her, their knees knocking, his thigh braced to hers as he tried to wipe his hand along the taco wrapper in his lap. It was all very not-suave. "Hey," he said.

She looked up, eyes blinking owlishly, as though she hadn't expected him to suddenly be so close.

But then neither had he.

Jon sucked a breath through his teeth, eyes flicking between hers when he realized he could feel the hot expel of her breath, when he realized he could count her lashes if he wished.

"His loss," he said, breathless suddenly, and shit, why did he sound like that? Jon swallowed thickly.

She pursed her lips, watching him.

He took a breath. "I mean, god, Sansa, you should know by now. You're anything but stupid. You're... you're fucking exquisite, okay? And he's – Harry's a dumbass," he laughed, licking his lips.

She glanced to his mouth.

And oh. Oh no.

Jon stiffened, his breath hitching.

Her eyes flicked back up to his, and instantly, he knew what she meant to do.

Sansa leaned in.

Distantly, he remembered Ygritte. His girlfriend. And he was half a second away from discarding the thought entirely, considering the downward spiral they'd been in lately, and considering how much he realized he wanted this. Fiercely so. Enough to send him spinning.

But that's not the kind of man he wanted for Sansa. And not the kind of man he wanted to be himself.

Hell, she'd literally just ended a relationship with a man who had no qualms about kissing a woman who wasn't his girlfriend, and here he was, about to do the same. Just a different angle on the same shitty situation. Sansa was vulnerable, and hurting, and looking for comfort in the wrong places, it was true. And he understood this, on some level, but it didn't really process like that, in the moment.

It happened more like this:

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do much morethan kiss her, truth be told.

His hand went to her shoulder, stopping her.

(But not like that.)

Sansa froze, mouth thinning into a tight line.

Jon cleared his throat. "Sansa, I..."

She pulled back instantly, back ramrod straight. "Oh," she said, voice wavering. She took a deep breath, jaw clenched. "Oh," she said again, eyes straight ahead.

Jon fumbled with the taco in his hand, trying to set it aside on the bench. "Wait, Sansa, look, I just – "

Sansa stood suddenly, her food slipping off her lap. She looked down at it as though suddenly remembering it, her features narrowing in anger. She grabbed at the take-out bag on the bench beside her, wiping her fingers with a napkin she snatched from inside, the slip of her copper hair obscuring her face from his view for a moment.

Jon gulped back his regret. "Sansa, please, I'm sorry, I just – "

"Take me home," she said flatly, jaw clenched.

Jon sighed, standing as well, tacos forgotten. And his hands were still so fucking messy, and now it was smeared on his pants, and she was already stalking away, and fuck, he was so stupid, so frustratingly stupid and fuck these goddamn tacos, he was just –

"Sansa!" he called after her.

But she'd only repeated her request to be taken home and so that's exactly what he did, and it wasn't until she slammed the car door closed and stalked up her driveway that he finally deflated in the driver's seat, a hand wiped down his face.

Because what the fuck? He picked now to be an upright guy?

It wasn't like he hadn't been fantasizing about her well before things went south with Ygritte, imagining it was Sansa's legs wrapped around his waist whenever he gave in to an angry fuck. It wasn't like he hadn't brushed off plans with his own girlfriend because Sansa hit him up. It wasn't like he hadn't had it in for nearly every man she's ever dated under the petty pretext of 'just being a big brother'.

It wasn't like that at all.

Except it was.

And now he'd screwed up. Rejected her when she'd made the first move.

She hadn't called him again since then, and he'd only seen her a handful of times since, always briefly, always in the company of others, always with a stiff, practiced veil of indifference between them.

He hated it.

They were friends once. Good friends. And now... well, now Jon didn't know what they were.

"Jon! So good to see you!" Jeyne swoops in for the rescue, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before waddling over to the sink for a glass of water.

"Thanks, hon," Ned says as he makes his way over to Sansa, taking some of the bags off her arms. "Jon, will you help Sansa take the rest of it to the other fridge?" he asks, and jesus christ, Jon is beginning to think the man has it out for him.

But he sets his beer down anyway, grunting his ascent before Sansa can refuse his help and he spreads his hands out in a 'gimme' motion toward her.

That earns him a reluctant smirk and a shake of her head and damn, it does something to his chest that leaves him nearly winded. But he can't help smiling in return, and maybe this won't be so bad. Maybe she doesn't hate him. Or maybe it's just that damned politeness of hers. His smile wilts at the edges at the thought, just slightly, but he's tired of this melodramatic shit, and he just misses her and he hopes she misses him, too, holy hell does he hope she misses him, too.

They make their way to the garage through the side kitchen door where the Starks store their second fridge for such things. Big enough for Catelyn Stark's largest casserole dish, and big enough for Aunt Lysa's punch bowl, and Rickon's stash of cream sodas. Jon offers an awkwardly wide, close-lipped smile when he opens the fridge door and Sansa just scrunches her nose as she squats down, pushing her sunglasses further back on her head and then she starts to rearrange the contents.

"You just got in?" she asks.

"Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yeah, Robb just picked us up at the train station."

"Long trip?"

He shrugs one shoulder, shifting the weight of the bags over his arm. "Couple hours."

"You should make it more often, then," she says, eyes still on the fridge.

He doesn't test that one. Doesn't really know how to, anyway. So he just hums in acknowledgement.

She glances up at him, hair swinging over her shoulder. "Robb misses you," she says in explanation.

"Do you?" The words are out before he can catch them. He stands there staring down at her.

She blinks, mouth pursing. And then she reaches for one of the bags off his arm and he hands her the extra burger patties wordlessly.

"Sansa..."

"Let's just... not," she says.

And god, he wants to bash his head into the freezer right then. He blows a breath through his lips and rakes a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Sansa, I never meant to – "

"I'd really rather you just forgot about it," she says, attention fixed back to the fridge.

He takes a moment, thinking on it. He doesn't really want to forget it though, that's the thing. But at the same time...

She gives a rough chuckle. "I mean, I was probably still drunk from the party, and feeling spiteful toward Harry, and you were there, and you were, well, you, and I think I just made a really stupid choice that had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and that... that wasn't right." She catches her breath, looking back up at him. "I didn't mean to use you like that. Or make you uncomfortable."

Nothing to do with you.

Jon blinks at her, mouth tipping open. Because what the fuck? What the – how could she – just what –

Now he really, really wanted to bash his head in. "Sansa," he grouses. What was going on?

"Dogs."

He rears back. "What?"

She opens an expectant palm toward him. "The hotdogs."

"Oh." He shakes his head, fumbling with the bag as he digs out the hotdogs, handing them over obediently and then –

Wait. Stop that.

Why is she so good at distracting him?

"Sansa, look – "

"And I'm sorry."

He swallows back his reply instantly.

She turns her gaze back to the fridge, tapping a nail nervously along the crisper drawer. "You don't have to worry. It won't happen again."

His mouth clamps shut, and now he's practically crawling out of his skin, ready to scream at her, and yet, god, if she only knew how much he had wanted to kiss her then, or just how much more he would have let her do to him, spiteful or not – but he's not sure that's the sort of thing she wants to hear right now, not if it was only ever a mistake to her.

She may as well have spelled it out in the convenient magnetic alphabet along the fridge door. In big, colorful, kindergarten-sized letters:

Mistake.

That's what she was calling it. That's what kissing him would mean to her. A mistake.

And you know, he is really, really starting to regret ever coming into this garage with her. Maybe awkward not-knowing is better.

Jon frowns, hand curling over the open fridge door. He opens his mouth, but the beeping of the fridge interrupts him, that stupid alert when the door is left open too long, and then Sansa is pushing the dogs further back on the shelf, asking for the pork chops, and they get the fridge stocked and closed in a matter of seconds.

Sansa stands then, and she's close. Real close. And Jon doesn't step back.

But she does. And maybe that should tell him something. Something he hadn't really wanted to consider before.

Sansa brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks," she says.

And everything he'd thought to say is suddenly deflated in his chest. Useless. He starts to bunch the empty grocery bags together. "Yeah," he says, and he can't help the edge to his voice.

"Jon?" she asks, a hand going to his arm.

He looks up at her then.

She's nervous, he can tell. And not because he knows this through some stupid love osmosis, but because he fucking pays attention. Because he knows what it means when her brows furrow like that, and when she pushes her lower jaw out just the slightest, and when she leans her head unconsciously to the left. Because he's known this girl since she was born, and he'll know her years from now, without doubt. Because he's become attuned to every minute detail of her. Because he doesn't know how to stop paying attention to Sansa Stark.

"Are we good?" she asks, tentative and soft.

And fuck no, they're not good. He's anything but good around her. Hasn't been for years, actually. But that's not what she needs right now, apparently. Or maybe he's just a coward, in the end. But he thinks he can live with that. If it's between being a coward or a mistake, he thinks he can live with that.

"Yeah," he croaks out – tries to mean it. He reaches for her arm, gives it an affectionate squeeze. "Of course."

And yeah, in the end, he just misses her. Misses the smile she gives him just then, easy and free.

It makes things a little easier.

His hand slips from her arm then.

She glances back toward the kitchen when she hears a loud bang and Arya's whine through the closed door. Instantly, the tension snaps, her chuckle lighting the way for his own mirth, and he's laughing then, a hand reaching back to rub the nape of his neck. "I don't think your sister's good though," he jokes.

She shakes her head. "And you were looking forward to seeing this family again?" she mocks.

He shrugs, leaning back along the closed fridge door. "Stuck with you, I guess."

She leans back beside him, arms crossing. "I'm glad you were able to make it." It sounds honest. Real.

Jon likes the sound of it.

"You, too." And he means it, he finds. He really does. "Going back tomorrow, though, I hear?"

She nods. "Yeah, Marg and I are trying to make a concert."

"Think you'll make it to sunrise?" he teases.

Sansa rolls her eyes. "I've never made it before."

He nudges her shoulder with his own. "Come on. Just try. You can sleep on the train."

She arches a brow at him.

"I've got a good feeling about tonight."

"Oh god, now I'm scared," she laughs.

"What?"

"None of your 'good feelings' have ever boded well for me."

"That's not true," he defends, a dramatic hand to his chest as though wounded. And damn, he thinks Theon is rubbing off on him. Not good. That is not good. He drops the hand instantly.

But Sansa only laughs, shaking her head. "Look, no promises, okay? But I'll try to hang in there."

He smiles cheekily at her. "That's all I ask."

She juts a finger into his chest then. "But you better not give me any shit if I pass out too early, okay? This is a 'no shit-giving zone', you hear me?" And then she crosses her hands before her, swipes them through the air. "Absolutely no shit."

He holds his hand to his chest like a goddamn boy scout. "Absolutely no shit," he swears solemnly. And god, she's just so fucking cute when she narrows her eyes at him.

But she leans back along the fridge again, smiling, and he thinks he can do this. He thinks he can relearn 'normal' with her.

"Work's been good?" she asks.

He rolls his eyes then, a hand wiping over his beard. "Same old, same old," he says.

The thing about inheritance law, see, is that the work is actually pretty fucking boring. And tedious, holy hell, so mind-numbingly tedious. And yet, working probate as a paralegal has introduced him to some truly interesting individuals. The ones that are preparing their wills, well, half of them end up waxing nostalgic with him, a stranger, just sitting there in their living room trying to get a signature out of them. And the stories! Oh man, the stories he's heard. But he likes to let people talk. Likes to listen. There's a lot someone will reveal when they think they're at the end of their life. A lot of candidness you don't find elsewhere. And sure, when he gets back to the office, he's often knee-deep in documents and his eyes are red from too much computer screen staring, but it's... oddly fulfilling. In a strange, coming-together kind of way – preparing an estate.

But then the other half he deals with are an assortment of paranoid upper-middle classers, stringent career military, young finance majors, and the occasional new parent.

He thinks of his mother then.

And it's not a glamorous job, certainly, but back when he was nineteen, and his mother hadn't left an executor, hadn't even left a will, back when his mother's childhood home had slipped from his fingers to some distant cousin, back when Ned and Benjen had hired a lawyer for him and made sure to secure enough of his inheritance to live by – he remembers what it felt like to navigate the 'after' with no clear discernment of what 'after' was supposed to look like, or how he was supposed to achieve it, or hell, how to even submit her death certificate to the DMV or who to call to turn off her water and electricity or how to change his phone plan from 'family' to 'single'.

How to settle the minutiae of death.

It's a strange, disconnected kind of experience. Tying up the ends of another's life. Maybe that's what got him. The cleanliness of it. The closure. Somehow outside of himself and yet, intricately tangled in it.

And Jon's sure there's a joke in there somewhere about it, but for the life of him, he can't figure it out just yet. He's stopped looking for punchlines a long time ago. Now, he just... is. Joke or not. He just is. There's a sort of peace to it.

And a paycheck's a paycheck, so maybe that's all it really is. Yeah. That's all it really is.

"It's the slow season," he says then, not having the words to really explain the rest. And isn't that just surreal? That probate has a slow season?

(He doesn't tell her that the majority of deaths happen around the holidays, that they happen in winter. But he thinks she knows this, even if he doesn't say. And it's not the kind of thing he whips out at the dinner table anyway, so he keeps his facts kept securely beneath his tongue – dismally objective as they are.)

But Sansa just nods, humming an acknowledgement. "I hear Mr. Mormont's been doing better."

Jon rubs along the back of his neck, stretching as he lets out a laugh. "Yeah, I don't think that guy's kickin' it any time soon."

Sansa nods sagely. "Good to hear." She drops her head back along the fridge, grin cracking wide. "Lyanna told me earlier, and I quote, 'The old bear doesn't know how to die'." She glances to him out of the corner of her eye.

"Honestly, the guy's revised his will like seventeen times at this point. I don't think he knows the meaning of 'terminal'."

They joke about it now, but five years ago, when Lyanna's uncle got the diagnosis and he'd first gone to Jon's firm, it certainly hadn't been a joking matter.

Now though – well, laugh so you don't cry, right? Mormont's a tough one, anyway. And he's the sort that doesn't make peace until he's ready. "Growing old ain't for pussies," as he'd said. Or was that Lyanna? Shit, he doesn't even know at this point.

Jon chuckles again. "Those two were cut from the same cloth."

"I'm glad she has Arya," Sansa muses softly then. "Just, you know – when it happens." She glances to Jon. "She'd never let her drown."

"No, she wouldn't."

A somber silence descends then, and with anyone else, it might have felt uncomfortable, or oppressive, but with Sansa it's just... contemplative. An easy sort of lull.

He picks at an imaginary thread along the hem of his t-shirt. "No, she'd sit with her," he says, and he doesn't know why.

Except he knows precisely why.

Because he'll always remember that morning on the Starks' porch and how she'd sat with him in his grief and never demanded anything or tried for meaningless words. How she knew he wasn't ready for some grand pep talk but he also wasn't ready to send her away.

Will you just sit with me?

How she just... stayed. How she stayed.

Yeah. He's not forgetting that any time soon.

Something comes over her face then that he can't really identify. But it's unnerving, and a little too scrutinizing for his taste, so he clears his throat, pushes off the fridge, grabs at the bunched-up, forgotten grocery bags along the counter beside them. "I swear, you Starks take in people like stray dogs," he mutters, a smirk at his lips.

She cocks her head at him. "Says one very happy puppy," she laughs pointedly.

He rolls his eyes then. "Alright, alright, move it or lose it, toots," he says, shooing her away.

She peels off the fridge and heads to the kitchen with a broad, knowing smile.

And just like that, he's okay again.

Jon breathes deep, exhales slowly.

It's summer, goddamn it – his favorite day of the year, with his favorite people around him. So why is he making it so much more complicated?

Jon shakes his head, following her out. In a matter of moments, he's bombarded by Bran and Theon trying to settle their argument over the latest DLC for their favorite video game, and he loses Sansa in the great expanse of the house, as she's ushered down the hall by Margaery, who offers him a short salute and a wink as a greeting.

"Did you bring your muscles?" Catelyn asks him suddenly, tearing his attention from Sansa's disappearing figure and halting Bran and Theon's argument around him as she plops an insanely large bowl of potato salad into his arms and nods toward the backyard in silent direction.

He nods dutifully at her. "Always, Mrs. Stark." He gives a wink for good measure, never missing her sly tut, though she tries to hide her smile. But it's enough. She's always been a woman of quiet affection, after all, speaking through actions rather than words. A stern look as she brushed the curls out of his eyes on he and Robb's first day of school, and firm, agile fingers when she taught him how to tie a tie, and a reluctant sigh as he'd ushered her into the selfie he took at last summer's cookout, even when her hand braced warm and steady at his back.

Maybe it was because she knew what it meant to lose a mother. Maybe because she was a mother herself. Maybe because you never really unlearn these things.

Jon makes his way outside through the sliding glass door, hulking potato salad in tow, and by the time Ned and Benjen have stopped the grill from smoking, and Rickon has grudgingly toted out the watermelon, and Jeyne has started husking the corn, the summer sun falls low and warm along the pool's waters just past the patio set. Bran and Arya arrive to the table wrapped in beach towels, and Margaery shrieks when Arya shakes her wet hair out at her, though she gets her back with a toppled beer into her lap, all by accident, of course, Margaery swears, and Sansa and Lyanna are howling with laughter while Ned and Catelyn try to wrangle everyone into their seats and Jon is – Jon is –

Happy. Stupid fucking happy. So happy it's hurting his jaw, and he thinks his smile might crack his face in two if he keeps it on any longer, so he tears into his burger instead, leaning back as he watches dinner unfold.

The food is demolished in record time, of course, and Robb offers to go get Jeyne's famous nectarine butter cake out of the fridge, dragging a bemoaning Lyanna behind him toward the kitchen to help cut up Arya's brownies with an argument of 'be the better significant other'.

Arya smirks at her girlfriend's retreating form, bringing her beer to her lips.

"Made those brownies 'special' this year, did you?" Theon asks pointedly.

Arya shrugs one shoulder. "I'm not Bran."

"Hey," Bran defends, looking very much like he's already slipping into a food coma without any further help. "I have sleep issues, as you all know."

Sansa rolls her eyes, rising to help her parents clear the table, and the image of her blurs just the slightest. Yup. Alcohol's kicking in now. But Jon's perfectly warm and contented, so he just settles further into his seat with his hands folded over his very full tummy.

"This innocent act is absolutely not believable, just so you know," Sansa jokes, once their parents are out of ear shot and through the sliding glass backdoor already.

Arya shrugs again. "Not like Lyanna would notice if I pinched her stash anyway," she laughs.

"What was that I heard?" Lyanna asks through the open back door.

Okay, so maybe not quite out of ear shot.

Jon chuckles as Sansa pinks with the realization.

Arya cranes her neck over the back of the patio chair. "What, babe, I'm not even – it's not like I'm – oh my god, put that down!" Arya vaults over the chair, toppling it, her beer sloshing over Theon's shoulder. She ignores his indignant 'Christ, Arya!' in favor of scrambling through the back door into the kitchen as Rickon keels over in a fit of laughter across from them.

"How'd she manage to keep that beer in her hand?" Bran muses dully beside Rickon, watching Arya flee.

"She didn't keep it in her hand," Theon grouses, wiping at his shirt. Beside him, Jeyne is offering napkins, dunking one into her ice water and dabbing at his shoulder. He shoos her hands away after a moment. "Fuck it, it's a lost cause." He stands up and reaches back to pull the shirt over his head, tossing it to his abandoned chair. "Pool time!" And then he's sprinting toward the pool in his trunks, canon-balling off the deep end.

"Theon!" Sansa shrieks. "You'll get a cramp!"

And god, she's so fucking adorable, Jon can barely manage to hide his smile behind his fist. But no one's watching him anyway, because Bran's already following Theon's example with an exaggerated whoop, and Jeyne's still fretting over the abandoned beer-stained shirt, and Margaery's still happily chatting away with Benjen in their little oblivious bubble at the far end of the table, and isn't that just a little unsettling because –

Jon shakes himself. No way. He doesn't even know how to begin feeling about that one.

"Score," Rickon says beside him gleefully, reaching for a beer from the ice bucket at the center of the table.

Catelyn swipes the beer from beneath Rickon's lips, appearing suddenly behind him. "Excuse me, little man."

Rickon makes a face. "Mom, I'm seventeen."

"And still so good at whining," she says sickly sweet, before she levels him with a deadpan look. "No."

Jon chokes on a swig of beer when he can't contain his laugh.

Rickon turns imploring eyes on Ned, who's come out the backdoor just behind Cat. He holds his hands up in surrender immediately.

Yeah, Jon thinks, because that's ever worked in this household.

"Your mom said no," Ned says in sympathy.

Whipped, Jon thinks, smirking at the exchange.

Rickon huffs, pushing his chair back and turning for the house. "We got any sprite?" he asks no one in particular, stalking away.

Jeyne looks after him with pity a moment before tossing Theon's shirt aside and going to help him raid the fridge. Or maybe help Robb escape the mania that is Lyanna and Arya in the kitchen currently. Jon's not particularly sure.

They never really make it to dessert anyway, as the Stark bunch ends up collectively piling into the pool, even Sansa, after dutifully tracking a half hour on her watch and entering the water not a second earlier. Bran and Arya take to chicken fighting on Jon and Theon's shoulders, Ned and Cat end up curled together on the swinging bench on the other side of the yard, and Jeyne and Robb have a splashing contest while she sits at the edge with her feet kicking water. Jon barely even notices the pool lights kicking in, or the lightning bugs coming out over the lawn, until Benjen puts on one of his old school records, their usual signal that evening had well and truly commenced, as well as Benjen's drunken nostalgia – although Margaery taking him up on a dance across the deck is most definitely new.

"Oh god, she's dancing with him," Sansa says, almost panicked, straightening up from her lazy hang over a pool noodle.

Jon laughs as he treads water. "It's just a dance."

She eyes him shrewdly. "A dance is never just a dance with Margaery."

Bran kicks languidly past them balancing his stomach over a beach ball. "It's not the first time they've dance."

Theon scrunches his nose at the comment.

"What are you talking about?" Arya kicks at Bran's ball, nearly toppling him, and he glares back at her.

He rights himself easily, continuing past them. "Last Christmas."

"What?" Sansa says, blinking wide-eyed at the comment.

But Bran is gone, trailing after Rickon in the deep end.

Sansa points at him, glancing around to each of them in turn. "How does he know that? How does he know that when I don't even know that?"

Theon shrugs, kicking back to the ledge. "The boy's a mutant."

"Yes, okay, but hello – best friend here."

Arya wiggles her brows at Sansa. "Did you know Rickon snuck Shireen out through the garage window one time when Mom nearly caught them?"

"I swear to god, Arya, if you tell Mom – " Rickon suddenly hollers from the other end of the pool, spluttering water.

Jon and Theon bust out laughing simultaneously.

"Oh my god," Sansa laughs, "Anything else you heathens want to share that I've missed?"

Arya reaches her arms back along the ledge behind her, chuckling. "Nah. Nothing as good as you and Jon making out in Jeyne Poole's closet." And then her face drops instantly, realization at what she'd said hitting her like a truck. Her eyes shoot to Jon instantly.

He's pretty sure he's just snapped his neck though, with how quickly he looks at her.

Arya mouths a silent, pained 'I'm sorry', bringing her hands together quickly like a prayer.

Theon's laugh putters out over the water. "What?"

Fun fact: Jon is just the slightest bit drunk at this point. Or at least, pretty well on the way there.

Another fun fact: He has absolutely no recollection of said confession. But it's coming in a little hazy now, the longer he thinks about it. It was just one of those nights. Arya had just broken up with Gendry, and Jon was visiting for Robb and Jeyne's engagement party, and there was a lot of alcohol, and a lot of Arya projecting the whole night, and they ended up sitting on the couch ruminating about what-ifs and lost moments and all that bullshit one talks about at one in the morning in the living room of your best friend's house after witnessing him and his soon-to-be unwrapping one too many lingerie sets to be at all comfortable.

And sure, maybe he'd wanted to tell someone, even when they'd both promised not to. Maybe he was just tired of the status quo. Best friend's sister, and all that. First kiss cliché. Like it was just a memory. A fond one, sure, but just that. A memory. Not to be nurtured into something more. Not to be held. Not to be taken as anything other than what it was.

Just two nervous-as-all-hell kids discovering new ways to fit together.

Except now, he thinks he's ready to admit he'll always want more. Even when he tells himself he doesn't. Because why would he tell Arya then? Why would he voice it at all?

He can spin all the excuses he can manage, and probably will. And he can drudge up a hundred different reasons, he's sure, for why he spilled the beans. And he can tell Sansa any number of reasons why he let it slip – all except the real one. That perhaps – and this is a big perhaps, a huge perhaps, the kind of perhaps that shakes you to your bones –

Perhaps she wanted him just as bad.

Jon figures this is the universe's way of letting him 'know'. Giving the push. The nudge. Making it happen. This was the universe telling him 'now' and 'her' and 'yes'. He just had to get his head out of his ass long enough to follow through on it.

See, it's kind of like that law. Or that set of laws. What is it? Fuck, Jon really wishes he'd paid attention in biology now.

Oh yeah.

Orgel's Rules. The first being: "Whenever a spontaneous process is too slow or too inefficient, a protein will evolve to speed it up or make it more efficient."

Now, Jon's no scientist. Of that he's sure. But he's pretty positive he's got the gist of it. And if his slow, pining ass can't get his shit together, well, here comes the 'universe', to speed things up a bit, a la Arya's big fat mouth style.

The only problem, he finds, is the way Sansa is currently looking at him.

He doesn't think he's ever seen that look on her face before. Not even when he rejected her kiss last winter. It's a blank sort of look. No pretty frown or curl of her brow. No pout or indignant shout. Just a look. A stare.

And oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jon nearly sinks beneath the water.

Sansa pushes her pool noodle away, wading toward the stairs.

"Sansa..." he croaks out, following her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He's just never seen her look like that.

"What's going on?" Robb asks, turning as he bobs between Jeyne's legs over the edge of the pool. Her hand stills in his hair as she notices Sansa's stiff retreat.

Jon rushes a little more toward the stairs. "Sansa."

"I should go," she says, voice flat, water steaming from her as she stalks up the pool steps.

He's not far behind her, oblivious to the family's curious – or in Theon's case, utterly flabbergasted – stares.

And this would be a really, really good time for that second rule to kick in, Jon thinks.

"Evolution is cleverer than you are."

Sansa whirls on him, and he stops abruptly, nearly slipping on the pool steps as he's reaching for a towel along the rail. He blinks chlorine-water out of his eyes when his wet curls plaster over his forehead. He wipes at them in anxious frustration. "Sansa, look – "

"You're an ass, Jon Snow." And then she whirls back around, stalking away in her pretty little turquoise bikini, snatching a towel off the closest chair.

Jon deflates instantly, standing half in and half out of the pool.

Alright, universe. Suppose that's a 'never mind', then.

"Dude, you're never getting it now," Theon goads, kicking off the floor of the pool to settle into a float behind him.

"Oh fuck off, Theon," he snarls, jumping up the remaining steps and storming after her.

Because fuck what the universe wants. And fuck Orgel's stupid fucking rules in the first place.

Evolution can suck his ass.

He's taking things into his own hands now.

Arya drops her head into her palm as Jon runs off after Sansa, dripping all along the deck.

Robb blinks dumbly at their retreating forms. "What the fuck just happened?"

[the-daily-dreamer]

“The Stark’s are villains!” - A deep dive into the validity of a Dany stan claim: Part 1

“Manipulators”

“Schemers”

“Back Stabbers”

“Oath Breakers”

“Hypocrites”

“Xenophobes”

“Power-Hungry”

“Murderers”

“Selfish”

“Willing to kill everyone to get what they want”

“Ned would be ashamed”

“They’re the new Lannisters”

Villains

The Dany stans have really started a movement that the Starks are the new Lannister. The new villains of the show. They’re selfish, powerhunry, racist, conniving characters. The lowest of the low. This is obviously utter nonsense.

But for the sake of something to do, I thought I’d take a deep dive into the actions of the Starks and see if they really are all these terrible things (or..if Dany stans just don’t understand words and what they mean) and how their precious queen stacks up! This’ll be a long post so I’ll break it into two parts. Analyzing the Starks (part 1) and then analyzing Daenerys herself (part 2).

Disclaimer: This is part 1, which focuses on the Starks. I will mainly be focusing on Jon and Sansa since they are the most vilified Starks by Dany stans. Arya is mentioned, but not much.

Manipulators: a person who controls or influences others in a clever or unscrupulous way.

I assume Dany stans are making the arguments that the Starks are manipulators because 1) Sansa “manipulates” Jon and Dany into...doing something??? D stans never make it clear, and 2) Jon “manipulates” Dany into fighting for the North.

1) Sansa manipulates Jon and Dany. Where?!? Sansa is completely open with Jon. She makes her opinions clear, not to manipulate Jon but to continue having an open and honest relationship with her brother/cousin. She understands that they all need each other. Sansa is not being vocal because she jealous or petty or any of that bull. She’s being vocal because she’s a leader. She’s in a position of power. She needs to be heard, just as much as any other lord or lady present at a meeting. Jon is never manipulated. He is being told the truth. When it comes to Dany...Sansa never really manipulates her. The only scene I can imagine would be even close to manipulation is the “What about the North scene”. I even say so myself that Dany is easily manipulated and receptive to Sanaa’s praise and thanks. But that means Sansa’s only manipulation is complimenting Dany in hopes of persuading her to free the North, which never happens ans doesn’t work. So Sansa doesn’t manipulate but rather stroke Dany’s ego and butter her up, in hopes of getting on her good side. If that’s manipulation then oh boy do I have news for you! DANY DID THE SAME THING TO SANSA AND WAS FAKE NICE TO GET WHAT SHE WANTS!

2) Jon manipulates Dany. I so desperately want this to be true. Unfortunately, the show was unclear on Jon’s motivations. Personally, I don’t think what Jon did was manipulation. He never tricked her or lied about anything to her to get what he wanted. He was open and honest. He told Dany that the others were coming and begged for help. Where is the manipulation? Asking for help by using dragon glass and dragons to defeat a literal horde of ice zombie that will kill everyone? If that’s manipulation, then every person that has ever asked for help is a manipulator. Even Dany says that Jon manipulated her into coming to the North, but there is no basis for that claim. He was ready to leave her castle and prepare for the battle, she kept him there. He didn’t use her affection against her. Jon simply asked for help. If Dany chose to go because she was “in love” or something, that’s on her. The other instance I could see for Jon manipulating Dany is the parentage reveal, but again, Jon never uses anything against Dany!

In short, the Starks didn’t manipulate Dany. They had autonomy. Just because they didn’t agree with your fav doesn’t mean they manipulated her. They are not unfairly controlling her. They are giving their opinions and council. She makes her own decisions.

Schemers: a person who is involved in making secret or underhanded plans

I love this one. The Starks are schemers now lol. They have a grand on to dominate the world and kill everyone. I have to laugh.

I assume the rhetoric of this comes from the scene in which Arya and Sansa tell Jon they don’t like Dany. That would be the closest thing to scheming the Stark girls do. The thing is...they never make plans to kill Dany, they never make plans to usurp Dany, they don’t do anything. They tell their brother/cousin that they don’t trust Dany or like her. And with good reason! They want independence! But telling your family you don’t like or want someone as your head of state is not scheming. Telling your family your opinion is not scheming.

The other instance would be Sansa telling Tyrion there’s another. Again, that isn’t a scheme. Unfortunately, the show left out a lot of personal involvement, so I can’t be sure what Sansa’s motivations or ideas are. But here’s the thing, she couldn’t have known what would happen after telling. To be a schemer you need to have a plan, know what will happen every step of the way. Pull strings. Littlefinger was a schemer because he planned everything out. Sansa didn’t have a plan beyond, get the North freedom. I can see the justification that this is still scheming because she tells Tyrion; however, I don’t believe it. Because Sansa didn’t know what would happen after.

And even if it was scheming, it’s not villainous. Her plans are for freedom for her country. She is pushing independence, which her people have fought for and declared over and over again. She is protecting her nation’s interests, not just her own. That’s heroic. Rob did the same thing. He made plans and “schemed” to win independence. But it was against the Lannisters, so to D stans it was ok. Sansa’s actions, if you perceive them as schemes, were still lined with noble intentions and were heroic for her people.

So whether you think it was a scheme or not, it doesn’t matter. Sansa was right to do it.

Backstabbers and Oath Breakers: Backstab - to attempt to discredit (a person) by underhanded means, as innuendo, accusation, or the like. Oath breaker - Someone who breaks an oath.

I’m clumping these together because they work hand in hand. This one has validity, so I won’t completely say no. But it’s an interesting question.

I assume this comes from broken promises, right? I’ll admit that Sansa did break her promise to Jon. She did tell a secret she promised to keep. But that wasn’t an oath. Oaths are more serious than promises.

Oath - a solemn promise, often invoking a divine witness, regarding one's future action or behavior

Promise - a declaration or assurance that one will do a particular thing or that a particular thing will happen

Sansa promised to not tell Jon’s secret. She did not swear an oath to Jon. She broke her promise, which I’m sure everyone has done.

Jon never promised Dany he wouldn’t tell his sisters. So that isn’t a broken oath. He did swear an oath that she would be his queen...and guess what! He didn’t break it!!!! Dany was his queen until her very end so no oath was broken.

So on the oath front - The Starks are clear

Backstabbing? Simple. Yeah. It happened. Jon killed Dany and Sansa spread Jon’s secret. That falls under the category of undermining. However context is important. They did it for the right reasons. Jon killed Dany because she was crazy! She killed an entire city! Murdered hundred of thousands and planned to keep going! Sansa did it to keep her kingdom free. So were they backstabbers....? Yeah...kinda. But they needed to be in order to defeat the villain and threat.

Hypocrites: the contrivance of a false appearance of virtue or goodness, while concealing real character traits or inclinations, especially with respect to religious and moral beliefs

I’m not spending time on this. They weren’t hypocrites. The Starks never feigned morality with underlying evil. They were open and honest at all times. And no...Sansa being polite back to Dany is not hypocrisy. Next!

Xenophobes: a person having a dislike of or prejudice against people from other countries.

This one kills me. I have to laugh. There’s no evidence! THE STARKS ARE NOT PREJUDICED AGAINST IMMIGRANTS! If the Stark girls were prejudiced against immigrants...they would hate Dany because she came from another country. And that would be it. They would hate the unsullied because they came from another country. They would hate because people come from other countries.

But they don’t! The Starks dislike Dany and her army because they are invaders who are trying to take over their country. They are oppressors coming in. There is no fear or hate of immigrants, there’s fear of oppression.

To say the North is xenophobic to Dany and her army because they come from another country, is to say that India was xenophobic towards Britain because they came from another country. The stupidity of it all!

Power-hungry, selfish, and willing to kill their people to get what they want: 1) power-hungry - having a strong desire for power 2) selfish - lacking consideration for others

1) How are the Stark’s power hungry? Jon never asks to be King. He hates being king. He takes back Winterfell because that is his family’s home. Sans never accepts the Lord’s invitation to overpower Jon. She stays behind Jon wholly and isn’t seeking to become queen. She takes back Winterfell because it’s her family’s home. And neither want the iron throne. Sansa wants Jon to have the throne, but that’s so he can grant independence. Neither one of them seek out power. It’s given to them because they show that they are capable leaders.

2) Both Jon and Sansa put others needs before their own. Jon is searching for a way to defeat the others. Sansa is searching for a way to feed her people and help them through winter. Sansa is also seeking a way to give her people the independenc they have fought for. Neither of them is thinking about their own gains. They are concerned about everyone else.

3) Willing to kill others for their own gains. I’m added this in because I hear this claim a lot. But again, Jon and Sansa do not kill people to get ahead. They do not let people starve or be killed be zombies. They do not kill the Lords of houses who did not support them initially. They do not kill to get ahead. There’s no evidence. Next!

Murderers:

You got me there! They do commit murder. They killed people. Everyone in the show except Gilly, Little Sam, Bran, and Rickon have killed people!

But let’s look at the kills they made in the last seasons, shall we?

1. Ramsay Bolton - Sansa fed him to his dogs After he lost the battle of the bastards. He was a murderer, sadist, rapist, and torturer. He raped Sansa, killed her brother, tortured her family friend, and was in control of her home unjustly. Deserving? ABSOLUTELY!

2. Little Finger - Sansa had a trial and asked him how he pled (guilty or innocent) for his crimes. His throat was slit by Arya. He was a manipulator, murderer, schemer, abuser, and cause of her fathers death + marriage to her rapist! Deserving? ABSOLUTELY

3. Daenerys Targaryen - Jon stabbed her in the stomach after she burnt down Kings Landing, murdered almost the entire population by burning them to death, and let her soldiers pillage the city and rape and murder the survivors of her fiery destruction. She was a mass murderer, abuser, destroyer of a city, and a tyrant. Deserving? ABSOLUTELY

So yes. You win. The Starks, like everyone in the show, are murders. Because they killed people before. And each one of them had it coming.

Ned would be ashamed and The New Lannisters:

This’ll be quick.

no

NO

NO

No. Ned would be proud of all of his children for coming back to one other and taking back their homes. He would be proud of them surviving their abusers. He would be proud that they continued the quest for independence after Rob. He would be proud they protected the North and defeated the others. Ned Stark would be proud of his children and nephew and would not prefer Dany.

No. They aren’t the new Lannisters. They haven’t done anything like the Lannisters. That’s a false comparison, and it’s stupid.

__________________________________________

Let’s redo the list. Shall we?

Manipulators - Nope! Dany did everything on her own

Schemers - Not really, and if they were then it was justified

Backstabbers - Kinda? Again justified! Against a mass murderer!

Oathbreakers - Nope! Broken promises? Yes. Oaths? Not once.

Hypocrites - Nope!

Xenophobes - Nope! Anyone who thinks so doesn’t understand the word or oppression

Powerhungry - Nope! They don’t want power, and if they do they don’t seize it unjustly.

Murderers - Yep! But they only killed Dany (mass murderer and tyrant), Ramsay (rapist, murderer, sadist, and stealer of their home), and Little Finger (manipulator, muderer, and schemer).

Selfish - Nope! They worry about others

Willing to kill everyone to get what they want - Nope! They don’t kill anyone to get what they want

Ned would be ashamed - Nope! He’d be proud

The New Lannisters - Nope! They’re not!

__________________________________________

I know this post is long, but if you’d like to see part 2 here’s the link!

[sansacherie]

Lesser Beasts

Notes: Trident Scene rewritten from Cersei perspective

It took them three days to find the Stark brat.

If Cersei was not so infuriated over what that thing did to her son, she might have found Arya Stark’s behaviour a little amusing. Running off like that – was she not meant to be the daughter of the Hand, and sister to the future queen? Perhaps the girl’s wildness was simply evidence that Lord Eddard let his scrawny daughter do as she pleased.

Scrawny, indeed. Cersei feels her jaw slightly clench as her eyes fix upon the girl. Her long face is splotchy and her eyes are red. Her hair is a frightful tangle too - but Cersei saw enough of her at Winterfell to know that is not entirely unusual; although the Lady Catelyn had made an effort otherwise for their feasts. The girl is alone in the middle of the room, save for one of Stark’s men beside her; a grave expression on his face.

Suddenly, Eddard Stark bursts into the room and ignoring everyone - rushes to his daughter. “I’m sorry-sorry-sorry.” The words come out of Arya Stark in a rush.

Yes, you’ll be sorry. You and your father.

“Shh, sweetling. It’s all right.” Ned Stark breaks apart from their embrace, but one hand is still on his girl’s shoulder. “What is the meaning of this? Why was my daughter not brought to me at once?” He flared.

Cersei pounced. “How dare you speak to your king in that manner!”

Cersei has little love for Robert. Why would she – when she already has Jaime, her other half? It is Jaime who had given Cersei her three precious lion cubs- Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. Jaime, who wants her and who whispers her name in the dark and who proved that he would be willing to go so far as to kill for her.

But just as she must put up with Robert for now until Joff’s crown was secure, Cersei needed him for this.

“Quiet, Cersei.” Robert snapped. Cersei wonders if he is so wroth because they have kept him from his drink. Her husband turned to his friend. “I’m sorry, Ned. I didn’t mean to frighten your daughter. We just need to get this business sorted.”

“And what business is that?” Stark demanded; his voice full of icy courtesy. Cersei squeezed Joffrey’s shoulder before stepping forward.

“You know, Stark. Your daughter’s beast nearly ripped my son's hand off. Could have left him a cripple for life, or worse. She attacked him.”

“That’s not true!” The girl exploded. “She only bit him a little. He was hurting Mycah.” A little. Cersei’s lip curled. She had got enough out of Joff to know that the wolf’s bite was not little. “Joff told us what happened. He said that you and your butcher’s boy attacked him with clubs before you set your wolf on him."

Cersei knows that it was Joffrey who struck first – nobody with sense would think that a scrawny girl with a stick would attack a prince with a sword. Joffrey has always been like that. But all lies often have a foundation of truth, and in the end, it was true that the direwolf had attacked her son. And no matter what Joff had done, he was a prince.

“That’s not true.” Arya looked like she was on the brink of tears. “Yes, it is!” Her son retorted. "They all attacked me, and she threw Lion's Tooth in the river!" Joffrey stared straight ahead as he spoke.

“Liar!” Arya screamed.

“Shut up!”

"Enough!” Robert roared. His voice cut through the children’s shouts. He looked towards Arya. “Now child, speak, and tell your king what happened. And you,” He cast a look at Joffrey who was glaring at Arya. “Will speak when she is finished. Until then, be quiet if you know what’s good for you.”

Arya took a deep breath, before diving into her story. When she got to the part where she threw Joff’s sword in the river, Lord Renly could no longer contain himself. Cersei could sense Robert’s temper rising – after all these years together and concealed bruises, she knew it well enough to know.

“Barristan, escort my brother outside.” “No need, Barristan. I can see myself out.” Renly turned and bowed to Joff. “Perhaps later you’ll tell me how a nine-year-old girl the size of a wet rat managed to disarm you with a broom handle and throw your sword in the river." His laughter remained in the room as he left, like a poisonous scent. Cersei hoped he would stumble in the dark and break his neck.

Her son’s face was pale but despite this, he spoke without his words shaking. That was good- it was important never to show weakness. When her son was finished, Robert rose from his seat with the air of the man who would rather be anywhere else in the seven kingdoms.

“Seven hells! What am I supposed to do with this? He tells me one thing; she tells me another!”

“They were not the only ones there.” Ned Stark replied. Cersei felt herself start as she realized that the eldest Stark girl had joined them. Ned gestured to his girl, who like Robert, looked like she wanted to be anywhere else.

“Sansa, come here.” Cersei felt her eyebrows raise. He was really getting sweet Sansa to speak? Did he not care about her shaming his betrothed? Cersei knew full well how men hated to be shamed. All men were alike, even when they were still cubs like her son. She herself understood how shame could burn within you.

She watched as the girl cast two frightened looks – first at her sister, then at Joffrey. “I d-don’t know. I didn’t see, it all happened so fast-“ She said tearfully.

“LIAR!” Before anyone can stop her, Sansa’s sister starts striking her with tiny, angry fists. “Arya, stop it!” Ned Stark shouted, while his man pulled his daughter off his eldest. Sansa’s face was ashen and she was shaking from her sister’s assault. “Are you hurt?” Ned Stark asked, but his words did not seem to reach her.

Still, the girl’s outburst gave Cersei what she wanted. “That girl is as wild as that filthy animal of hers," Cersei spoke. She turned to Robert. “I want her punished.”

“Seven hells, Cersei.” Robert rubbed his sweaty brow. “What would you have me do? Whip her? Children fight.”

My father had my grandfather’s mistress stripped naked and paraded through the streets because she dared wear my lady grandmother’s jewels. Cersei lifted her chin, defiant. “Joffrey will bear these scars for the rest of his life.”

She saw Robert’s contemptuous eyes on Joffrey. Later, she would think how Robert rarely looked at Joffrey with pride. “So, he will. Well, all men must have scars- just don’t tell others how you got yours. Ned, see that your girl is dealt with. I’ll see to my son myself.” Stark sighed with relief. “Gladly, Your Grace.”

Cersei was not done here. “And what of the direwolf? What of the beast that savaged your heir?” Robert frowned. “I’d forgotten the damn wolf.” Stark’s man, who had remained silent until then – spoke up. “We found no trace of the direwolf, Your Grace.” 

"No? So be it.” But Cersei was not so easily shaken. The lovely idea struck her like a whip.

“We have another wolf.” She could almost taste the triumph. It took them a moment to understand, but when they did Robert only shrugged. “Do as you will.”

“Robert, you cannot mean this.” Stark protested. Her husband had reached his limit. "Enough, Ned, I will hear no more. A direwolf is a savage beast. Sooner or later, it would have turned on your girl the same way the other did on my son. Get her a dog, she'll be happier for it."

“He doesn’t mean Lady, does he?” Sansa’s eyes were scared. She saw her father’s answer on his face, and you could almost see something crumble within her. Cersei felt something dangerously close to pity stir within her- but she had to do this.

She did not like Stark. She did not like that Robert had asked him to be his Hand. She did not like that his girl made her son look weak. And what better way to send a message than by killing the sigil of his house?

"No," she said. "No, not Lady, Lady didn't bite anybody, she's good . . . " "Lady wasn't there," Arya shouted angrily. "You leave her alone!"

Her son’s betrothed had lost control of herself now. "Stop them," Sansa pleaded, "don't let them do it, please, please, it wasn't Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can't, it wasn't Lady, don't let them hurt Lady, I'll make her be good, I promise, I promise . . . " Ned Stark took his sobbing daughter into his arms. His eyes, begging, were on Robert. "Please, Robert. For the love you bear me. For the love you bore my sister. Please."

Cersei dug her fingernails at Lord Eddard’s mention of Lyanna Stark. Robert looked at his friend for a long moment, before turning to her. “Damn you, woman.”

He was so weak; Cersei couldn’t help but thinking. And I thought you loved Ned Stark well, husband. “Do it yourself, then.” The iciness had returned to Ned’s voice. “At least be man enough to do it yourself.”

Instead, Robert looked at the man who he had fostered and rebelled with, before storming from the room.

Cersei smiled. “Where is the direwolf?”

“Chained up outside, Your Grace.”

“Send for Ilyn Payne.” “

No.” Ned’s voice gave Cersei a start. "Jory, take the girls back to their rooms and bring me Ice."

Cersei’s eyes narrowed. “Is this some sort of trick?” “The wolf is of the North,” Stark responds. “She deserves better than a butcher.”

Stark keeps his word. Although it vexes her that she never got the pelt – Stark having gotten the sentimental notion to have the wolf taken North, Cersei savours the memory of Stark's face the rest of the way to Kingslanding.

They were lions, and sooner or later, lesser beasts like dire wolfs, would have to bow to them.

[chequeredwhitpost]

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Episode One: Night Patrol.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (OC= Arya [Arya]) [X DOUXIE] >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was a long night last night. Study is a total pain in the ass. But hey, at least I had my best friend to help me out. We had a study-over. (Practically a sleepover, but only involving academics. Not our idea, I want to add.) Her name is Darci. 

But now that I’m walking back into the school, I realize just how tired I really am. The school bell rings as I notice a crowd gathered in the courtyard. After that I notice Jim, Toby, Claire, Darci, and Mary gathered on the sidelines. I take a breath and approach them.

“Hey guys.” I say. 

“Oh! Hey, Arya.” Jim waves. 

“Sup, Lake.” 

I look at Claire and instantly wince. 

“Whoa! Claire! What is up with you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You do not look good, girl. You look sick as the plague.”

“I keep telling her to take a break.”

“You probably should.” I note, agreeing with Jim.

Mary walks up to Claire and grabs her wrist, pulling her away from the group.

“Look at the hot sauce that showed up at our front door, C-bomb! He’s from Arcadia Oaks Academy!” She squeals. 

I cross my arms and roll my eyes. A second later, I notice Toby, Jim, AND Darci looking at me.

“What?” 

“What? Aren’t you single?” Darci asks, “Shouldn’t you be over there, swooning?” 

“Ok, first of all, just because I am single doesn’t mean I want to get out of that status. Secondly, he can’t be THAT much of a ‘hot sauce’, as Mary put it.” 

I glance over at the big crowd of girls and watch Claire get pummeled. She falls and I roll my eyes. She should really take a break. I turn my head back to Darci and go to talk about last night.

“Hey, thanks for helping me with my Algebra.” I say. 

“No problem! Thanks for helping me with my Spanish.”

“De nada.” 

We laugh. Jim gets a sudden scowl on his face and quickly dismisses himself, going up to Claire. 

Toby snickers. 

“You sure you don't wanna swoon? He’s even making Claire swoon.” 

“Ugh, Toby, did you not just hear what I said?” 

I turn my head and gasp upon who I see talking to Claire and Jim. He hands Claire a flyer of some sorts and I am suddenly filled with happiness. 

“Oh-shit!!” I say, running over to him.

Toby and Darci watch me run away and I hear Tobes say… “Wow, she sure changed her mind fast.” 

“I know right? Weird…” 

 I run up to him at full force and jump at him, pulling him into a hug.

“Douxie!!” 

He grabs me in his arms and slightly holds me back, to see who it is who’s just charged him. 

Once he sees that it’s me, though, he smiles widely and gives me a tight hug.

“Arya!! Whoa, blast from the past! I didn’t know you went to this school!” 

“Wait… You two know each other?” Claire questions. 

I link arms with Douxie and pull myself out of his grasp. 

“Oh, totally! We go WAY back!” 

The goof next to me snickers.

“You can say that again.” 

And Darci and Mary appear out of nowhere, noticing the -- now clearly-- Battle of the Bands poster in Claire’s hands. 

“Claire! We should enter!” Darci suggests,

“We could be a cover band! Call ourselves…” 

“Oh! Oh!” 

They cheer the name together, “Mama Skull!” 

They high five, but then I notice a familiar look on Jim’s face. He pushes past the girls and takes the flyer. 

“I don’t know… you know, really? Mama Skull? I don't know. I don’t know…”

I look up at Douxie, our arms still linked, and we share a shrug. 

“It’s the end of the school year, and we’re already pretty booked up with all those ‘after-school activities’.” Jim gives a nervous laugh.

But Claire snatches the flyer back out of his hand. 

“Actually, a friend of mine told me I needed more balance.” She looks at Darci and Mary, 

“Count us in!!” 

“Kaboom!!” Darci cheers.

“Shotgun on vocals!” 

Douxie nods to Claire, “I look forward to seeing you again, fair lady Claire.” 

Claire laughs. I start to go with Douxie, but Darci and Mary clear their throats, as if I was just volunteered to enter their ‘Mama Skull’ with them.

“What?” 

“What? Aren’t you coming with us?” Mary prods. 

Oh no. I know that look in her eyes. She thinks this-- the linked arms thing-- is something between me and Douxie. Oh geeze. If I don’t go with them now, they’ll take that as confirmation-- which it is NOT! We’re just really close friends! 

 I give a noticeable sigh and undo our arms. I hug Doux one last time and bid him goodbye.

“We’ll catch up later, Ok?” 

I pull out a pen and small sticky note and write down my number.

“And since I’m pretty sure our contacts have changed, here. My number.” 

A slight squeal comes from Mary.

Nonetheless, Douxie takes it and shoots me a wink.

“Of course. Talk to you later then, Arya.” He walks backwards, giving a dismissive two finger salute. 

I watch him disappear around the corner and a hand goes on my shoulder. It’s Mary’s. Typically…

“Ok. You have some SERIOUS explaining to do.” 

“Yeah!” 

“Definitely.” 

I click my tongue.

“Two things. Why should I explain anything to you guys when we’re just friends? And two, when did I sign up for Mama Skull?” 

“Just now.”

“And I’m not mad. I believe you’re just friends. But I’m mad that you never told us you had some SERIOUSLY HOT SAUCE friends!!” 

I deadpan. Oh boy, here we go. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

(Lunch) 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I’m sitting down at our usual lunch table, quickly joined by the trio -- Darci, Claire, and Toby-- and Shannon and her best friend, who’s name I believe is Lauri. 

Darci sits next to me on the end of the table--- on my right-- and Mary on my left. Mary practically slams her tray down on the table and looks at me with an expectant smile. 

“Ugh. What now?” I groan, trying to get in my english notes from last period.

“Screw what you're doing! It’s time for gossip!!!” Mary shouts, practically announcing to the whole cafeteria that I have tea. 

….

Which I do not.

“Do I even have a choice?” 

“NOPE.” 

Shannon looks at us, confused. 

“Wait, what’s going on?”

Mary lets out a dramatic giggle, cupping her hands together. 

“OK, so here’s the sip. You know that total cutie that was here this morning from Arcadia Oaks Academy?” 

Shannon and Lauri nod. 

“Well, turns out!” 

Mary grabs my arm and shakes me back and forth violently. I know she’s excited, but there’s really nothing like that to be telling. 

“It turns out that Arya here and the cutie KNOW EACH OTHER!!”

“Quit calling him that.” I grumble.

“Oh, come on, you don’t think he’s even a little bit cute?” 

“Wha--!? Mary!”

“She’s blushing!!” Darci teases.

“Shut up!!” I stomp. 

“You guys… You should really respect people’s love lives.” Shannon says, before looking at me.

“BUT HE’S NOT IN MY LOVE LIFE!!” 

The girls all start cracking up. I swear them out in hawaiian.

“You guys are all lolo.” 

“Yeah yeah.” 

I sigh deeply and go back to my notes. But before I do…

“And could you please not call him ‘Cutie’? He has a name…” 

“Ooh, I’d LOVE to know hot sauce’s name! Tell us!” 

I glare at Mary.

“Jeesh, you said you’re just friends. That means he’s free game.” 

“MARY!!! I SWEAR!” 

I’m gonna strangle her…

“His name is Douxie.” Claire answers. 

We all look at her, surprised as she fiddles on her phone.

“How do YOU know that?”

“I looked up his band. He’s the lead guitarist, and he sings.” 

“Pft. I could’ve told you that.” I mumble.

“Douxie, huh? Douxie….”  

Ok. That’s it.

I go to tackle Mary but Darci grabs me and holds me back.

“ARYA-- NO!!!” 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

<Time Skip> <After School>

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I walk out of the school through the front gates. Dropping my skateboard down on the ground, I step up one foot on the board. I plug in my earbuds and put on some good ol AC/DC for a play back home. I’m about to get moving before I hear someone call my name--- lucky them.

I turn my head around and see Claire leading the trio out of the school. I take out one ear bud. 

“Hey girl…” Mary greets me, cautiously.

“What’s up?” I ask casually. 

As far as I’m concerned, what I did at lunch was justified. So it never really happened. 

“Well, we were thinking about meeting up to start Mama Skull tomorrow. If you’re free we could all get together and decide who does what?” 

“I’ll do lead guitar, if that’s ok.” I shrug.

“Wait, you play guitar?” 

“Excuse you-- I rock the guitar! But I’m gonna be in lockdown at my place tomorrow. I have to watch my little brother and stay home while my parents aren’t.” 

“Oh, bummer.”

“Eh.”

Claire rests a hand on my shoulder. 

“I’ll text you the final details.” 

“Thanks… I guess. Oh! And I want at least one guitar solo!” 

They humor me as they walk away. In truth, I’ll probably just end up signing myself up to go before them. I know it’s not really FAIR, but I don’t wanna just be in the background. If I’m gonna shred, I’m gonna SHRED. That better make sense. 

I sigh, plug my earbud back in, and get home before mom calls me and chews me out. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

(Time Skip) | (Late at night.)  

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I just finished studying for Senior Uhl’s Spanish exam in a few days when I hear my phone buzz. I check the screen and see an unidentified number’s text, and it’s a warm hello. Bet I know who that is. 

I pick up my phone and reply.

___________________

???: Fair Lady Arya, how are you on this divine night?

Arya: I was expecting Douxie, not Romeo. 

Douxie: Nope, you caught me. Douxie at your service, m’lady.

Arya: M’lady? That’s sappy, my guy. 

Douxie: I thought you liked Sappy?

Arya: I do. 

Arya: So what’s up? You’re lucky to catch me. About to go to bed.

Douxie: Perfect timing then. 

Douxie: So are you going to be in their ‘Mama Skull’ band? 

Arya: Hey, you’ve done this stuff before.

Arya: Can I be in a group and on my own?

Arya: Because I was thinking of playing a solo shred on my guitar.

Douxie: Eeeehhh. It’s tricky. Some competitions forbid that- since if you happened to win solo and your group wins, well, it’s unfair. 

Douxie: But I’m pretty sure this time you can shred solo and with a group.

Arya: Ok cool. That’s what I’ll do. 

Douxie: So, got any plans for tomorrow? 

Arya: Staying home. Gotta watch my lil’ brother.

Douxie: I see. 

Arya: Buut, you’re welcome to come over if you’d like. To hang out, catch up, play some guitar together. 

Douxie: I’d like that. And that’s a ‘please do’ on bringing my guitar? 

Arya: Hells yes.

Douxie: Cool. What time do you want me over?

Arya: umm. If you want you could come over at as early as 10. Am. 

Douxie: Sweet. Even though I’m not much of a morning person, I’ll set an alarm.

Arya: What time do you usually wake up?

Douxie: Late.

Arya: Funny. Ok, Doux. See you tomorrow. Heading to bed now.

Douxie: Sweet dreams, Lady Arya.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

(End Chapter One / Episode One Time.)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I dont know if you guys couldn’t tell, but this is an oc-insert. Some episodes won’t be happening with what’s going on on screen with the show, so those episodes will be ‘filler’ eps/chaps. 

Anyways, hope you enjoyed this!!

[sailorshadzter]

at your side i’ll always be.

A knock comes later. Much later.

She's dressed for bed, a white nightgown, her fur robe thrown over her shoulders, hair a single plait down her back. When the knock sounds, she looks up from where she sits in the window seat, head pressed against the frosted plane of glass. Outside, snow drifts down, covering the ashes of battle, as if to say it had never even happened. But they would not forget. No one could ever forget.

"Come in," she calls out, softly, turning back to look out the window, thinking it only to be Brienne come to check in on her, for her lady knight had yet to return from the celebration feast. She hopes, with the flicker of a smile, that Brienne might not come at all, perhaps finding herself a little bit of happiness she deserved. But those footsteps do not belong to Brienne and when Sansa looks up, she already knows it's him standing there. "Jon..."

He's drunk and he knows it.

Perhaps it was wrong of him to come to her rooms like this, but when Daenerys had fled from his rooms... Seeing Sansa was the only thing that could calm the racing of his heart. Hearing her voice was the only thing that could return the peace to his mind. "I'm sorry," he begins, chuckling in spite of himself, hand up to awkwardly run through his unruly curls. "For coming here like this." She's soft and still in the window, surrounded by the moonlight, a vision in white and fur, looking up at him with those blue eyes of hers. Eyes he can lose himself in, eyes he could drown in, willingly drown in. "I had to see you." Alcohol has given him courage and he thinks back to her down at the feast, smiling in the golden firelight. I believe in you, she had said to him then, words that filled him with warmth. "I wanted to make sure you were alright... You left the feast so suddenly..."

"I'm fine," she says, shoulders lifting in a shrug. That's not true, she thinks, wondering just when it became so easy to lie. "I was tired." If Jon wonders why she's still awake then, so many hours later, he doesn't ask. Instead, he approaches her where she sits, dressed in just his breeches and white shirt, stumbling ever so slightly. He's drunk, she realizes, unable to help but to smile as he sinks into the small space available on the window seat, pushing a pillow to the floor to give himself a bit more room. "I am surprised you're not asleep yourself," she chuckles, though she sobers when something dark crosses his face. "Jon...?"

He's staring, transfixed by the sight of her; the softness of her smile, the way moonlight entwines in her vibrant red tresses. If he could, he would stay right there, in this moment, forevermore. "I couldn't sleep," he answers, not really a life, but also not really the truth. He sees her hands, tucked over her knees, and it's all he can do to keep himself for reaching for her.

"Me either," she admits after a beat of silence, a wane smile appearing upon her lips. When she sleeps, she dreams, and dreaming is one of the last things she wants to do. Even now she finds herself tormented by the wails of the dying, the sick sound of flesh tearing from bone enough to turn her stomach.

"I sent you down there... To be kept safe." He murmurs, taking her hand into his, emotion filling him up, threatening to spill over. "I'm sorry, Sansa." She grips his hand back, tears welling in her eyes, making them shine like gems. Before he can say another word, it's her that's reaching out, drawing him into her. She holds him close, her embrace warm and gentle, her chin tucked into place against the top of his head. When the tears come, she says nothing but sweet whispers of comfort, though her own tears drip down her face. He doesn't know how long they sit there together, a tangle of limbs, his head pressing into her chest, her heartbeat a tattoo against his cheek. But finally, he finds the courage to raise himself from her, peering into her face that wears a look he's never seen before. A look of love, of such tenderness that he can barely breathe. "I thought you to be angry with me."

"I was," she admits, head tilting, a stray strand of red hair falling across her forehead. "But we have to trust each other, don't we? We have so many enemies..." He recognizes the words she speaks, words he himself had spoken to her only some months ago. A smile finds its way onto his lips and he nods. "I trust you, Jon, I trust you to do what's right for our family."

That's when he remembers.

The words he's wanted to tell her, the truth he should have given to her before the fight. But words he didn't know quite how to say. "Sansa, I... There's something I must tell you." The words he should have told her the night before stepping into battle, words he swore he would tell her if he came back. And he did come back, against all odds, he came back. "I'm not a Stark, Sansa." She opens her mouth, her usual protest, but he shakes his head. "My father... My father was Rhaegar Targaryen."

It's a whirlwind of emotions that rush though her- shock mixes with what she can only call relief, yet, there is pity, too... Pity for the man who all his life has longed to be a true born son of Ned Stark, but only to find he is not even the bastard of the man. "Jon..."

"My mother was your aunt Lyanna," he breaks in before she can say anything more, his gaze straying from her as he shifts away, as if he cannot stand to face her in this moment. "That is why your father took me in." It was true, it was said that there was nothing the Stark brothers would not have done for their beloved sister, Lyanna, who was said to have been kidnapped and raped by the Targaryen prince. "They were in love." His words are like a whisper and yet they snap her from her thoughts like a shout. "They were married."

She leans forward, hand to his arm, guiding him back to face her. "Jon, if that's true..." She can't believe the words that he's speaking to her. "Then it's you, not Daenerys that's the heir to the Iron Throne." He gives a single nod and Sansa swallows, reaching for him again, though this time his arms wind around her and he's the one drawing her in. "It doesn't change anything, you know," she's whispering a few moments later, her voice somewhat muffled from how her mouth is pressed against the crook of his shoulder. One of his hands is trailing her spine, though he finds he longs to undo her braid and run his fingers through her fiery locks. "You're still Jon... And you're still a Stark." She's smiling when she draws back, a hand reaching out to tenderly touch the bruise on his temple, head tilting as she gazes into his eyes. He's leaning in then, closer than they've perhaps ever been, her heart skipping a beat as his other hand falls into place against her cheek.

"There's something else..." He whispers, closer still, her lips a soft brush against his as he speaks on. "I love you." Those three words, settled upon his heart all this time, words that have both disgusted and delighted him. Love for a sister, half or not, was detestable. It was wrong, it was unfathomable... And yet... It had filled him with warmth, with peace. Being with Sansa... It gave his life a sense of direction, new meaning for a life that had once felt pointless. Once, he had been lost, but Sansa had found him that day in Castle Black and it was as if there was light again in his dark world of rebirth. But she's staring back at him, wide eyed in the moonlight, looking as if she doesn't dare believe what he's said. As if it's too good to be true.

And so he leans in, kissing her as he should have done weeks ago, months ago.

When Jon kisses her, the world stops spinning; but when it begins again, she finds herself kissing him back, warmth igniting in her belly that spreads through her every limb. In her chest, her heart beats wildly, a flutter of excitement racing her spine as Jon's hand slides into her hair. It's a moment she's wished for, a moment she's longed for, despite the distance between them. She knows what people would say if they knew the depth of her feelings for Jon... But he had saved her... in more ways than one. It was Jon that gave her the will to fight on, it was Jon that gave her something to believe in. He was the light guiding her through the darkness of her nights, a comforting hand to steady her whenever she was about to fall.

She breaks the kiss only so she may tip her forehead against his, a smile tugging at her lips.

"I love you, too."

[ x x x ]

Later still, when dawn threatens to creep over the horizon, Jon rolls over so he may face her where she lays in bed, smiling faintly when she opens her eyes. "It cannot be morning so soon," she groans, shifting as she lay there beneath the furs, content to stay there at least another hour or two.

"But it is," Jon chuckles, leaning over her so he might press a kiss to her temple, still marveling at his place in her bed beside her. "I should go..." He says quietly, though he too is loathe to leave her bed, especially when beneath the furs she slides a hand across his abdomen, the warm touch of her skin stirring him as it had done dozens of times the night before. "Or... Maybe I'll stay."

It isn't until the sun is high in the morning sky that Jon finally finds the will to untangle himself from her, knowing they would soon be discovered if they did not part ways. Besides, there was a war meeting to attend and so he climbs from the warmth of her arms and bed to find his breeches. "You will tell the others, won't you?" She asks as he tugs his breeches back on, bending down to retrieve his shirt and her nightgown from the floor. "They deserve to know, too, Jon... Especially..." She doesn't finish, but he knows what she means. He watches as she slides from beneath the covers on the bed, red hair falling down her back, pulled loose hours ago from that braid she'd tied it into. The moment she's pulled her nightgown back on, he's there, slipping his arms around her, drawing her in, breathing her in.

"Aye, I'll tell them," he murmurs against her hair, knowing it was only Arya that needed to know, for Bran was the one to learn of the truth, only after speaking with Sam. "Later today, after the war meeting." He draws back and she nods, feeling cold without him when he steps back, heading for the door. "I'll see you down there," he says with a grin and then he's gone.

[ x x x ]

She dreams of a dragon's screech, of the heat of fire, the stench of death.

It leaves her filled with fear like she's never known before. "Don't go," she whispers to him that night, when he's to leave the next day. "I'm afraid for you." Jon only smiles, touching her cheek before he leans in, kissing her as he's done as often as possible in the three days since the night of the feast. "Jon, please."

"I have to go," he finally says, brushing back a stray lock of her hair, though he wishes it were not so. If he could, he would never again part from her side. "You know what I have to do." He reaches for her  hand and draws it to his mouth, tenderly kissing her palm. "I'll come back to you, Sansa, I promise." He raises his gaze back to hers and despite the tears that gather in her eyes, she's smiling.

She believed in him and so she would have to let him go.

[ x x x ]

When she steps onto the platform in the dragonpit, her gaze is sharper than any sword, falling upon any man there who dared speak against Jon. There was no mistaking it, the Lady of Winterfell would go to war with any one of the seven kingdoms, just to ensure the safety of Jon Snow. And truth be told, there was not many there who thought it smart to start a war with the she wolf of Winterfell.

In the end, she gets as she wishes, and Jon is brought to where she stands alone in the broken throne room of the Red Keep.

"Sansa...?"

She turns at the sound of his voice, tears filling her eyes as she lays eyes upon him for the first time in several weeks. "Jon!" She races forward, throwing her arms around him; his arms come around her and he sweeps her off her feet, relishing in the warm weight of her body. "Are you alright? Have they hurt you?" She's drawing back, her gentle hands combing him for injury, pausing as she finds the wounds from the shackles he had worn at his wrists.

"I'm alright," he says, his voice bringing her attention back to his face. "I... I don't understand. How are you here?" He is a man she does not know- in tattered clothes, with a darkness to him she's never seen before. This is a man that has seen new horrors that Sansa cannot begin to imagine. Arya had worn a similar look when she found her in King's Landing only the morning before; the look frightened her.

"I came to rescue you, of course." She says after a moment, offering him a smile; it isn't until he  sees it that he realizes just how much he's missed seeing it. For a moment he must pull her close again, holding onto her as if he believes she might vanish at any moment. For all these long weeks, the mere thought of her has kept him going, despite his belief he would never have saw her again. In truth, he was able to live with that, just knowing she was safe from harm. There was no one left in the world who would dare mess with Sansa Stark or Winterfell again. And so... He would have gone to the wall or to his death, if that was what fate had in store for him, because she was safe and in the end, that was what mattered most to him. But it seemed fate had another future in mind for him, though he supposes Sansa had a strange ability to twist her future into something better, into an outcome that was better than the current.

When he draws back, her cheeks are full of warmth and color, giving her a radiant sort of look he's never seen before. "But..." He shakes his head, disbelief still yet clinging to him. "You came all this way... You came to King's Landing?" She once swore she would never step foot in this place again, not for anything, but there she was. For him. She had come for him. "Were you going to start a war, sweetheart?" He's softening, he's becoming again who she knows so well.

"If I had to," she admits, shoulders lifting in a slight shrug, as if he speaks of the weather. "I've come to take you home and I won't leave without you." Her rosy lips curve with a smile as she runs a hand through his unruly curls, grown long in his weeks of captivity. Jon can imagine her- blue gaze fierce, lips spitting venom like a viper, a woman no man would dare fight against- arguing for him, fighting to bring him back to the North with her.

"Home?" He asks, as if he dares not believe what she says. But the way she's smiling, the way her hand reaches for his... He does believe her. He catches her hand in his, drawing it to his mouth for a kiss, an echo of their last moment together some weeks ago. "But what of the Iron Throne?" He asks then, gesturing towards the melted puddle of iron on the floor across the room from where they stand.

"Gone. Dissolved. Westeros is as it once was, independent nations, ruled by their own chosen leader." Sansa glances over her shoulder to where the Iron Throne once stood- she had so many memories within this crumbling room, but none that she cared to remember at all. Except for perhaps this one. She turns back to him, threading her fingers with his, uncaring of who might stumble upon them now. The truth of Jon's birth had been explained in the dragon pit meeting and soon, it would spread across all of Westeros that there was but one Targaryen left in the world. "King's Landing will be rebuilt, beginning with the demolished town so the smallfolk have a place to stay again. Bran is to remain here and rule, he was chosen by the other lords." Jon's gaze shifts from her face back to where the throne once stood, the memory of his last moment's in this room filtering through his mind. "They said the dragon took her away..." Sansa's voice draws him back and he turns to face her once again, nodding. "Back to Essos..." she wonders aloud, the same location where perhaps everyone assumed the dragon to be taking his mother's body. "Come... There's rooms that have been prepared." There wasn't much that wasn't destroyed in Daenerys' attack on King's Landing, but there was enough rooms left in tact for a small court to remain. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Jon lets her take him by the hand and lead him from the room.

[ x x x ]

She finds him on the deck of the ship, watching as King's Landing grows small in the distance.

It has been a fortnight since their reunion, since the day of the dragonpit meeting, and finally they were to return home. Leaving Bran behind had been painful, but as Jon slips his arm around her waist, she knows that she's never going to be alone again. And soon enough, Arya will return from her travels eastward and they will all be together again.

"I thought you were feeling seasick," he says as she leans into him, her gaze following where his once went, the highest remaining peak of King's Landing disappearing into the distance. "You can stay in the cabin, if you must." He was worried to find her huddled over a bucket in the cabin just moments after taking off from the dock, her lady knight gently rubbing circles against her back. She had sworn it to be from the ship rocking and waved him away, saying she would try to lay in the bed and find some comfort.

Chuckling, she looks back to him, taking in the sight of him; he looks healthy, with his face trimmed and his unruly curls secured in his signature bun. His smile is brighter than she's seen it in months, no longer like a ghost, he's a man that's been born again. Come to think of it, she too once felt like a ghost of her former self, never to find that girl she once was. Perhaps she might never find the Sansa who left Winterfell all those years ago, but the Sansa she's become isn't truly so bad. Besides.... There is happiness still yet to come.

"I think I've found my sea legs," she says, her words bringing a laugh from his lips as his hands place themselves against her hips, pulling her close. In the two weeks they spent in King's Landing, their relationship became quite evident to those around them and there would be no surprise when in a few weeks, they would certainly be married and crowned King and Queen in the North. And so here, on a ship filled with loyal Northern men, they are not worried about who might see them there.

His kiss comes a moment later, a long, slow kiss that weakens her knees, a kiss that steals the very breath from her lungs. When he pulls back a few moments later, he's just as breathless, but grinning as he tips his forehead against hers. "I might like to keep you in the cabin anyways," he teases and though her cheeks flood with color, she's smiling mischievously, telling him she's not that opposed to the idea. He kisses her again, this one full of fire, and his grip tightens at her waist, closing the gap between them. His lips are on the move and she can feel the gentle tip of his teeth on the soft flesh of her earlobe, his breath warm against her neck.

She's the one to break from this tender touch, drawing back with her hands on his shoulders, staring into his Stark colored eyes, a strange sort of smile on her lips. "There's something I must tell you," she says and Jon blinks, clearly surprised by her sudden admission. But he nods all the same, the only bit of encouragement she needs to speak on. "That night... After the feast..." Drunk as he might have been, he remembers, for how could he ever forget? Her smile does not fade as she reaches for his hand and draws it down, pressing his palm against the flat plane of her abdomen. "I'm with child, Jon."

At first, Jon isn't quite certain that he's heard her correctly. "With... Child?" He asks as she slides her hand into place over his, her face bright with her smile, nodding in response to his question. The realization of what her words mean suddenly sink in and Jon can't help but to sweep her off her feet in an embrace, his laughter carrying along the wind as he swings her back to the ground. Now he's understanding- things he had noticed, such as an unusual aversion to quail in King's Landing or the drowsiness she had explained away by the tireless hours she worked to help Bran make sense of the kingdom he'd been left with- all signs he had overlooked, not even thinking for a moment that such a thing were possible.

"It's early days yet, but the maester in King's Landing swears it will be a healthy babe." Sansa smiles, thinking back to that day only a week before when she had learned herself the truth of what had been ailing her day after day. "You're happy..?" She can't help but to ask, sobering slightly, knowing that this was perhaps not the way either of them had thought they would begin their new life together. Despite the peace of Westeros, there was still so much uncertainty ahead.

But she can't help but to smile again when Jon pulls her into a gentle embrace, holding her close, the sweet scent of her hair filling him with warmth. "I'm happier than I ever thought I could be," Jon admits when he's peering into her eyes once more, a hand falling into place against the curve of her cheek. "Happier than I might even deserve to be."

This time when he kisses her, it's tender, it's soft, it's a silent thank you. It's everything he's wanted to say to her, but could never find the words to use.

She must understand though, for when they break apart she's smiling. Her hand find his and Jon knows, there was no other place he wanted to stand more than at her side.

And that would be where he was, for the rest of his life.

[onthesandsofdreams]

Prom Night

Fandom: ASOIAF Pairing: SanSan Rating: T Summary:  Truth be told, she had been hopeful that Sandor would ask her to prom. Words: 1728 Notes: For my pal @hisyetisgirl, who always leaves such lovely comments on my fics. Thank you!

Read @ AO3 

Sansa had to swallow down her disappointment.

Prom was coming up and she had not been invited, also, it was themed after one of her favorite stories: Jenny and Duncan. She knew that since her break-up with Joff, she was all but a social pariah, only few of her friends remained, Jeyne, Mya and Myranda had stood by her side when she broke things with Joff. It had hurt when Margaery had began dating him almost immediately and began to ignore her.

Theon and Jon had offered to take her, but she knew that Jeyne liked Theon and Jon liked Daenerys and she could not accept their offers, she thanked them and pushed them to ask the girls they liked. “Don’t worry about me, you both boy should ask them.” She told them.

Truth be told, she had been hopeful that Sandor would ask her to prom.

Sandor Clegane had been a not-so-recent addition to her friends. She had known him, of course, he used to be around Joff a lot, but after Joff began to mistreat her, Sandor had surprised her by taking her side and basically becoming her body guard. At the beginning, Sandor gave the impression that he didn’t like her, he was rough around the edges, brutally honest, with a short temper for idiots (which made her wonder why he was even friends with Joff). That, combined with his height, his scars and body type, screamed ‘Don’t mess with me’, he had intimidated her at first. But once she had gotten to know him, she found him to be good. He was far from perfect, but he was protective without being suffocating, he was brave and strong, he encouraged her to see people for who they were and not for who they pretended to be.

Sandor had also spoken to her about his scars, her heart had broken when she had found the truth. Sandor had smiled at her anger, thanked her for being the only one to validate his pain. From that moment on, they had been nearly inseparable.

Another thing that she liked is, that with her encouragement, Sandor had began to take anger management and therapy. And he had improved by leaps and bounds, he spoke often and highly of a man who went by ‘Elder brother’, who was his therapist. She was proud of him.

And somewhere along the line, she realized she had fallen for him. She realized it when she found herself comparing other boys to him, only to find them lacking. She had dreamt about kissing him, she found herself wanting to hold his hand.

But Sandor had never made a pass to her, and she was much to shy do to so herself. Even with Myranda’s encouragement, she couldn’t do it, her tongue would fail her, she would be a stuttering mess and she just couldn’t ask him.

She sighed, prom was two week away and she had – quite hopeful and foolishly – bought a dress for it. It was ice blue, her mother had said that it brought her coloring well, Arya had approved and Jeyne had squealed, “You’ll be the prettiest!”

But now, she had a dress but no date.

She was sighed tiredly, she had really been looking forward prom and dancing alongside her friends. But it all seemed to say that she would’ve to find something to do as consolation prize. She let herself fall on the bed, groaned out loud and looked around dejectedly, she was about to grab a book to try and distract herself when her phone rang.

She grabbed it and saw that it was Sandor, her heart did a little flip. “Hey, Sandor!” She chirped, no sense in letting him know she was upset. Knowing him, he would ask her out of guilt. She didn’t want that.

“Hey Sansa, I have a question.” Sandor sounded worried.

“Ask away.”

“What color should I get my tux.”

That broke her heart a little, it would seem that Sandor was going to go to prom with someone else. That hurt. “Ah,” she tried to sound nonchalant. “Why?”

“Well, because we should match, shouldn’t we?”

Sansa could almost see him frown, she also did, “I don’t understand, why should we match?”

“We’re going to prom, yes?”

Sansa’s mind came to a screeching halt. “Um,” she was able to get out. “No, we’re not.”

Silence. “Oh. Fuck.” Leave it to Sandor to curse. “Fuck, Little bird… did I not ask you?”

“No?”

“Oh fucking fuck,” Sandor groaned at the phone. “Little bird, I am so sorry! I thought I had! Fuck I’m an idiot.”

Sansa’s heart skipped a beat. He wanted to ask her! She didn’t know what to say to that, she wanted to giggle out of happiness and relief, she wasn’t taking anyone else! “You wanted to ask me?” She managed, her hands got a bit clammy and she did her best to control her voice.

“Yeah,” she could clearly see him scratching the back of his head. “I just didn’t want to put any pressure on you, and well, the test got the best of me and I guess I forgot. But, ah, Sansa… I know we’re two weeks out, but, wanna go to prom with me?”

Sansa felt giddy and happy, “Of course! I’d love to go to prom with you!”

“Oh that’s a relief,” Sandor said. “But wait, can you get a dress so close? I mean, I know I fucked up and I’m giving you very little time, but if you can’t… well, we could go and catch a movie or something.”

Sansa was moved, it was so kind of him. “I have a dress, don’t worry about it. Just get your tux, I think you’d look quite dashing in either gray or blue.”

“Grey or blue? Got it. Well, Sansa, gotta go, need to finish an essay. See you at school, and thanks for putting up with my dumbass.”

Sansa laughed, “Thank you for asking me, see you at school.”

They both hanged and Sansa all but jumped up and down her bed, she was excited and happy. Now she could only hope to find someone to do her hair and make-up, she wanted to be the prettiest Sandor had ever seen her.

***

The next morning, she told her mother about it, fortunately, Catelyn knew a woman who could do both her hair and make-up. “I am glad you’re going,” Catelyn told her smiling. “It was disheartening seeing you be upset for missing prom.”

Sansa hugged her mother. “Well, I’m going and I’m going to have fun!”

“That’s my girl,” Catelyn said and squeezed her tightly.

The days that followed passed in a flurry of activity, schoolwork and her volunteering kept her busy. She had already selected hair and make-up, she had her accessories ready and she was growing ever more excited for prom.

The day of it, she could barely believe that it was finally happening. By the time she was done, she felt like a princess, she had chosen a braided updo that left some thin strands of hair to fall around her hair, her make-up was done in soft shades of pink. Her blue dress fit her perfectly and picked her accessories in silver. She allowed her mother to fuzz over her and take pictures.

When Sandor came to pick her up, he looked quite dashing in a dark blue tux and he had gotten her a corsage. It was a beautiful little thing, white baby roses and baby’s breath, he placed it gently on her hand. “You look beautiful,” he’d told her when they had seen each other.

“And you look quite dashing,” She beamed at him. She relished in the matching smile that Sandor gave her. “I’m excited!”

Her mother had insisted on a couple of photos, neither minded and simply stood still side by side as her mother took them. “Have fun, don’t drink and drive.” That had been her father’s parting words.

Sandor had opened the door of his car for her, only closing it after she had been safely in. He walked to the driver’s seat and climbed on. “Ready?”

“Yes! Let’s go!”

Sandor laughed at her enthusiasm, but started the car and drove them to the hotel were their reception was taking place. Once they were there, he opened her door and offered his arm, she took it smiling and together, they made their way inside.

She gaped at the ballroom, it was all decorated in different shades of green and silver. They found their sitting place and chatted with the people around them, but they only seemed to have eyes for each other.

They chatted while they had their dinner, and once the dance floor was officially opened, Sandor stood and offered his hand and they began to dance.

“I didn’t take you for a dancer,” she admitted.

Sandor shrugged, “I’m not much of it, but that’s the point of today, right, to dance?”

“True.”

And dance they did, only taking breaks when she felt tired or needed punch or a bathroom break. They danced the night away, and just before the night came to a close, the last song was a slow ballad. And they both still dance, her arms around his middle (damn his height!) while they swayed gently to the sound of music.

“Thank you.” She told him.

“What for?”

“For bring me. I wanted to come, but no one asked.”

“That’s because they’re idiots, Little bird. Myself included. I’m just, well, honored that you accepted.”

She looked up, her heart was beating fast and loud. Finding either courage or stupidity, she pushed herself up and gave him a quick kiss at the corner of his mouth, blushing fiercely immediately after. “If you’re an idiot, then, you’re my idiot.”

Sandor looked at her with wide eyes, but then he shook his head, grinned and said, “Yep, I’m your idiot.” And he lowered himself enough to give her a quick kiss to her lips.

She beamed and returned it. “I like you, you know?”

Sandor seemed to catch her meaning, “Well, I like you too.”

Under the soft lights and with gentle music, they both grinned and once more kissed. No matter what happened tomorrow, they would always have this night. But somehow she knew, that something special had been born this night.